


Ereolas: Oropher Unbound!

by Glorfindel



Series: The Melpomaen Collection [4]
Category: Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU, Angst, Character Death, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Kink, Language, M/M, Madness, Magic, Mpreg, Murder, Sarcasm, Sex, Spiders, Squick, Tentacles, Tissues, Toys, Violence, attempted/actual suicide, battles, breastfeeding and drinking, extreme silliness, killer plants., outrageous slapstick humour
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-02-11
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2017-10-30 22:59:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 56
Words: 284,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/337133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glorfindel/pseuds/Glorfindel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story is part of the Melpomaen the Elfling universe.</p><p>Ereolas is the reborn King Oropher and is married to Cirdan. They live in Mithlond. He has decided to write his memoirs of when he was King of the Greenwood and also record the details of his life in Mithlond in anecdotal, diary form.</p><p>To familiarise yourself with the characters you could read Melpomaen the Elfling first, but it is not necessary.</p><p>Here is a brief synopsis of the events leading up to this story:</p><p>Melpomaen and Ereolas are Erestor and Legolas’ elflings. Ereolas is King Oropher reborn and so Legolas actually gave birth to his grand ada. Ereolas is able to speak, read, write, be a pain in the ass, as soon as he is born. Shortly after his birth, he demands his old throne back. His parents and the Valar, who prefer Thranduil as king, resist him. Ereolas accepts, in the end, that he will never be a king again and adopts a new hobby: researching and imposing the rules of etiquette. He terrorises everyone with etiquette.</p><p>Oropher’s soul mate is Cirdan and when he came of age they were married and moved to Mithlond. Recently, Ereolas has found that he carries the curse of Legolas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Library, Onward to Lindon, I am Not Happy!!!

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the Melpomaen the Elfling universe and occurs around a hundred years after the events of Mel_the Elfling.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own the elves or their surroundings. The elves made me write this even though they belong to Tolkien; they are very naughty making me do this! I make no profit and have no intention of making any.

  
  
**The Library**  
  
  
  
Before I was reborn as Ereolas I was King Oropher. You all know that, don’t you?   
  
  
  
When I arrived in Mithlond, after marrying Círdan, one of the first places I acquainted myself with was the royal library. I found that there was hardly anything written about King Oropher. It was with the utmost incredulity that I then became aware of the deplorable lack of commitment in pursuing the availability of books about the most magnificent and illustrious king who ever lived. Oropher should at least have his own section. When I mentioned this to the librarian, he rather acidly suggested that I write a biography and add it to the shelves. He is a rather rude elf and I was tempted to whip his ass; instead, I ordered a servant to do it.  
  
  
  
I was mollified, however, by the surprisingly large section of books on etiquette. I noticed that there were several copies of the best seller, ‘Etiquette – or else,’ by Prince Ereolas of Mirkwood. It is a definitive and seminal work and remains the foremost etiquette style guide available. The book renders its precedents redundant and rather insignificant. Advance copies can be ordered from the Stiffy Press for two gold pieces per book. The Stiffy Press have outlets in Mirkwood, Imladris and Lothlórien and a fourth is expected to open next year, in the spring, in Mithlond.  
  
  
  
There is also a small hidden section in the library, lost in the shelves, in a dark corner, which I suspect is often overlooked. It contains book written by elflings in their own hand. I picked a book at random. The title was, “Why I hate living in this shit place, by Erestor, aged 20.” I flicked through the bound volume and the depth of emotion pouring from the pages by an obviously terribly unhappy elfling made me feel as though I were a voyeur. I did not want others to read something so personal, and I suspect that it was never intended for a wide readership anyway. Perhaps it was the only recourse left for my ada when no one paid any attention to his needs. No wonder he was naughty a lot of the time. The book sits in my bookshelf now, along with the others he wrote. All are painful to read, so I will not give them back to the library. Some things should remain private. I hope that soon I can return them to my ada. He can do what he likes with them then.  
  
  
  
If anything, Erestor’s book is a salutary lesson in how not to raise elflings. My own little elfling, Cireolas, is sitting on my lap as I write. I have the curse or blessing of Saruman within my body too, just as my Ada Legolas did. Melpomaen, the shag bunny, did not inherit the ability to give birth. He finds it extremely amusing that I have to take special herbs every day to stop myself conceiving. However, I have a little son and heir, who no doubt considers that I am the greatest ada alive, and that is something Mel will never have.  
  
  
  
Cireolas is five days old and already he has the sweetest and sunniest personality, much like mine when I was that age. He has the most perfectly beautiful face and fine golden blond hair, and looks very much like Thranduil did as an elfling baby, although his eyes are Círdan’s shade of dark blue. As far as we know he is not reborn, which is a relief, and I would suggest that none of you listen to Mel when he says that my little ion has a beard like his Ada Círdan. It would be very funny, but it is totally untrue.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
This is a series of reminiscences, as I cannot be bothered to do a chronological autobiography. In fact, I am going to stop right here as my sleepy little elfling is becoming fractious and demanding a drink of body temperature milk. It is our bonding time, and Círdan likes to put his arms around both of us when Cireolas feeds, so that he associates the closeness with both his parents and not just me. He says he wants to get everything right this time, as he feels keenly that he failed Erestor on many levels when he was his guardian. He did fail Erestor, but unwittingly he saved him too by sending him to Haldir’s school for recalcitrant elflings. I firmly believe that he is the elf today because of this.   
  
  
  
Cireolas’ bottom lip is starting to wibble and the eyes are preparing to water. The mouth is opening and in goes a nipple as I thwart his attempt to cry. Been there, done that, little one. You are suckling off a master!  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
I am so tired. Cireolas is spending the morning with his Uncle Melpomaen, who has taken him into the gardens. Mel intends reading a book about Fëanor; apparently, it is a mushy love story. He will find it quite hard, Cireolas loves attention and Mel will have to give it to him.   
  
  
  
Círdan has brought me breakfast in bed. I do not know why but I could not sleep. The rest of my family are coming, en masse, to visit and this may be the reason. Círdan is of different opinion; he says that being constantly milked and caring for a baby is tiring, especially as I have a big wound at the base of my belly where Cireolas was cut out. He also considers that I am doing too much. Perhaps he is right. I am too tired to argue. I wish I could sleep.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
My Nana breastfed me when I was baby Oropher, but when my wife, Queen Crabbyarse, gave birth to Thranduil, she wanted to employ a local woman to wet nurse him; apparently it would be unseemly to feed him herself. Of course, that was not her real name, but one that I gave her whenever she was especially irritating; which was most of the time actually.   
  
  
  
I absolutely forbade her to employ someone to feed Thranduil. It had not occurred to her that a wet nurse already has a baby who will only be able to suckle on what is left over. Those babies often grew up smaller than average because they were half starved when they need nutrition the most. We were a warrior society and could not afford the young to be made deliberately weak. The bitch dug her heels in and refused to budge, she was having a wet nurse whether I liked it or not and already had one lined up. I walked into the council chamber and made wet nursing illegal with immediate effect. I was not popular among the pregnant ladies of the court, but I like to think I had the welfare of more than my ion in mind.  
  
  
  
Queen Crabbyarse, seizing the opportunity to make me look a complete and unfeeling bastard, announced to the court that she was totally behind me changing the law on wet nursing and that she had suggested it to me. She opined about how she felt that it was not fair for little baby elflings from poorer families to suffer from nutritional neglect. The lying bitch then said that she spent many hours convincing me that it was the right thing to do and that I had fought her until I gave in. Wishing to avoid being the subject of increased court intrigue, I did not publically disagree with her, but prayed silently that the Valar would strike the lying cow down with a lightning bolt, but not whilst holding Thranduil, of course.  
  
  
  
My bitch wife announced that she would be breastfeeding her ion, Thranduil, because she wanted to give him the best start in life. How I hated her for that. She made me look like an uncaring swine and totally turned the tables on me. There are some elves today who still believe that Oropher was a harsh and evil king whose family and subjects were terrified of him. A lot of this was because of her machinations. No wonder I took Círdan as a lover. He was everything that she was not and I do not feel guilty at all. Our life together was a series of petty tit for tat battles. Such are the joys of an arranged marriage.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
 **Onward to Lindon!**  
  
  
  
“But I do not love her.” My parents were sitting on their horses so we could go to Lindon and meet my prospective bride. I refused to mount my horse.  
  
  
  
“You will when you see her, she is from good breeding stock.” My ada boomed and slapped me heartily between the shoulder blades, knocking the air out of me. “Now get on your horse.”  
  
  
  
My nana gave a robust chuckle, lifted me up by my scruff, and put me on my horse. I have never seen a woman as big as her, apart from Galadriel. She was born in a time when it was necessary for royals to fight for their right to the throne and our small numbers meant that the females were warriors too. “I didn’t like your ada at all when we married, but I learned to love him and you will do as you are told and learn to love your future wife too.”  
  
  
  
“I am sure I will not.” I replied with an air of dejection. “Why can’t I marry an ellon?”  
  
  
  
“Don’t be silly Oropher.” My ada laughed loudly. “Look we have been through this before. We need our line to continue. You do not have any brothers or sisters and so it falls upon you to have the elflings needed for inheritance purposes. A royal’s life is not his own and you will find that out time and time again. You ask Ereinion, he will tell you it is true.”  
  
  
  
“Ereinion isn’t married and he refuses to marry all the elleth that are introduced to him.” I used their argument against them.  
  
  
  
“He is looking for the right one. It takes a very special elleth to be the High Queen.” My nana grinned and then slapped my horse hard, so it ran away. “Meet you in Lindon,” she boomed in her laughter.  
  
  
  
It was the day before my fiftieth birthday that we arrived in Lindon. We were introduced to Ereinion and, let me tell you, he was hot!!! I was so glad that I was wearing a robe with tight leggings underneath. He ignored convention and gave me a bear hug. “Pick me tomorrow night,” he whispered, then said in a loud voice that he was happy to see me.  
  
  
  
I wondered what he meant, but said nothing. When we got back to our rooms, my Ada announced, with a great deal of dismay, “It seems your bride to be has been delayed and will not be able to attend your birthday party, so you will have to choose someone else to spend the night with.”   
  
  
  
“What?” I asked blinking in surprise.  
  
  
  
“It is tradition that elves lose their virginity on their fiftieth begetting day. Surely, you learned this in your Model Citizen classes? Really Oropher, I think some things go completely over your head.” My ada unpacked an ornate robe and hung it on a hanger. “Now pay attention. This is what you will wear tomorrow night. At the end of the evening you will be asked to make a choice as to which elf you would like to spend the night with. Do not decide to have a bit of fun and pick me or your Nana; I know what you are like.” The robe was hung in the wardrobe.  
  
  
  
“I can pick any elf?” So that is what Ereinion meant, obviously the attraction was mutual.  
  
  
  
“I would pick a female elf if I were you, one that has been around the block a bit. She will show you what to do. Handy for when you get married.” My ada looked slightly uncomfortable which secretly pleased me. “Ah! Here is your Nana.” He waltzed off, as fast as he decently could, leaving me alone.  
  
  
  
On my begetting day, we went to the celebration in my honour. Nana was most irritated that my new bride to be was not there. “Dreadfully bad form,” she said to me, more than once. “Make sure you pick an elleth who looks experienced, so you know how to give your wife a rollicking good time in bed. That is, of course, when she deigns to show up.”  
  
  
  
The end of the evening arrived. The music stopped and every elf in the room looked at me expectantly as I was led to the royal dais. As was tradition, apparently, my ada asked me to choose my lover for the night. “Remember pick an older elleth, so you know what to do on your wedding night,” he whispered.  
  
  
  
I looked straight at Ereinion who leered most becomingly. “I choose Ereinion.” I said loudly to the audience and whispered to my outraged ada. “It is my night, so bugger off.”  
  
  
  
“You are for it tomorrow, you little git.” My ada looked as though steam would shoot out of his ears.  
  
  
  
Ereinion walked up to me and took my hand. “So unexpected. I am most honoured.”   
  
  
  
We walked off together. When arrived in his rooms we laughed like naughty elflings.  
  
  
  
“I am so glad I did not have to spend the night with my bride to be,” I chuckled.   
  
  
  
Ereinion caught my mouth in a deep and intense kiss whilst running his hand across my hardness. “She was never going to be here tonight.” He winked and I grinned.   
  
  
  
My clothing was removed with painful slowness. As my bare skin was uncovered, it was kissed. I thought I would die from the bliss.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Mel and Glorfindel have just brought the ever-hungry Cireolas back. Glorfindel has changed his nappy, but it is up to me to feed him. I was in the mood to write about my first time as well. It will have to wait until tomorrow.  
  
  
  
“Do you let Círdan have a drink too?” Mel was fascinated and could not keep his beady little eyes off my tit or the small mammal suckling and pawing at it with his tiny hands.   
  
  
  
“What a question to ask,” Glorfindel told him. “That sort of thing is private.”  
  
  
  
“Ada Legolas used to let Ada Erestor suck his tits when you had finished feeding.” Mel pulled a face; he hated milk.  
  
  
  
“How do you know?” Glorfindel asked.  
  
  
  
“He used to peer at them through the crack in the door, didn’t you Mel?” I laughed at his discomfort. “He got an eye infection from the draught, according to Elrond he was the first ever elfling to suffer from pink eye.”   
  
  
  
We fell about laughing and Mel told me to stop telling Glorfindel things about him. The noise cause Cireolas to start crying and so they left, leaving me to quieten him down.  
  
  
  
Círdan joined me shortly after. I lay in his arms watching Cireolas fall asleep and drifted off myself. At last I was able to sleep.  
  
  
  
 **I AM NOT HAPPY!!!**  
  
  
  
There are no happy Oropher reminiscences’ in this journal entry, as I want to write about how awful the past couple of days have been.  
  
  
  
Apparently, my adas, my ion Thranduil and his wife Merilnis (who once peed on my leg when a baby), Elrond and Celebrían, Galadriel and her pet husband Celeborn, Haldir and Orophin have arrived, all together. Círdan did not think to tell me that they were coming. I knew they would be coming but not when. Círdan knew, but to surprise me he said nothing. I hate surprises and he will suffer for it.  
  
  
  
I do not like to be a drama queen but I am bloody tired. Cireolas has decided to scream every time I put him in his cot, even though it is beside the bed and he can see me. Círdan is feigning helplessness every time our ion needs a nappy change and I feel like shit. I cannot sleep and the least little thing makes me explode with anger.   
  
  
  
Mel has tried taking Cireolas outside, which works for about half an hour before he starts crying. Not even Glorfindel, who is fantastic with elflings, can settle him down. He is fine and well behaved if he is lying beside me or if I am holding him, but I never get a minute to myself. My whole life revolves around this excessively demanding infant.  
  
  
  
I screamed at Círdan this morning and told him to learn how to change nappies or else I would sail and leave the brat with him. He has promised to do so. It is terrible not being able to sleep. I slept last night, but only for an hour, and I feel so down and depressed. I do not feel like myself anymore. Normally, I am very happy, but at the moment I am not. Even having a bath is an effort and needs planning on a military scale so that Cireolas does not scream because he cannot see me. According to the healer, it is normal for ellith to feel depressed several days after the birth, but I am not an elleth so I do not see why this should apply to me. I am not very happy.  
  
  
  
Somehow, this morning I managed to eat breakfast, only because Cireolas was having a body temperature drink. Then I dressed, which entailed leaving Cireolas on the bed whilst I put my leggings on. He cried. He cried and cried and cried. I told him to be quiet and he ignored me.   
  
  
  
I sat on the edge of the bed and picked him up. “Why don’t you just shut up for a while? Your crying goes right through me.” I felt so tired and a small tear slid down my cheek.   
  
  
  
Feeling alone and angry I went to the door and made my way to the rooms where I knew my ada’s would be staying. Walking in, I saw everyone having a good time, drinking wine and not having to look after baby elflings. They were laughing, chatting and enjoying themselves, especially Círdan, who I noticed was definitely not looking after an elfling. I stormed up to him, gave Cireolas to him and screamed at him to keep the little brat because I was going to sail as soon as the next ship left.  
  
  
  
“You have not brushed your hair.” Círdan looked shocked. His mouth dropped open and nearly hit the floor when I told him to go stick his head in a pig.   
  
  
  
I stormed out of the room and took a moment to stand and calm down once outside. Through the door, I could hear Círdan apologising for my behaviour, which made my blood boil. Then Erestor asked how much help I was getting and Círdan replied that he cuddled us both when Cireolas fed.   
  
  
  
“I would start pulling your weight if I were you.” Legolas sounded angry. “If you do not I am taking Ereolas back to Imladris where we can help him raise his child.” I could hear Círdan start to protest, but Legolas cut him short. “You said he was asleep, he looks as though he hasn’t slept for a week. Erestor always helped me.”   
  
  
  
“I have council meetings…” Círdan knew he sounded weak and Cireolas started to cry.   
  
  
  
“Delegate.” Erestor sounded angry. “I do not expect to see my ion looking like that because he has a husband who cannot be bothered to give him the support he needs.”   
  
  
  
I left them to it and walked back to my bedroom. Sitting on the bed, I hugged my knees and rocked back and forth, feeling extremely miserable. I wanted to go to sleep and never wake up. The door opened but I took no notice, assuming it was Círdan returning Cireolas, but it was not. Legolas put his arms around me and pulled my head to his chest. I felt the tears running down my cheeks and my breath hitched as I breathed.   
  
  
  
“Sweet one, let us lay down together and you can sleep. I will make sure you are not disturbed.”  
  
  
  
I lay down in my Ada’s arm and he stroked my hair and sung to me. I do not remember him finishing the song and when I woke up it was dark and my chest was swollen, leaking and painful. Legolas brought a cup of tea into the room.   
  
  
  
“You have slept for twelve hours. Cireolas has been fed several times by one of the court ladies who expressed some milk into a bottle and your Ada Erestor has been rather firm with Círdan. He realises now that his behaviour has been less than perfect. Earlier on, he wanted to apologise but I would not let him in until you woke up.” Legolas smiled and stroked my hair. “Things will get better. I know you think they won’t, but they will.”  
  
  
  
I took a sip of my tea. “Ada, I feel a bit better. I do not feel so tired now.”  
  
  
  
“I have a bath run for you. Then we can go to dinner.” Legolas stood up then went to the cupboard and pulled out several towels. “Elrond wants to look at you tomorrow. He says you do not look very well and that a healer saying it is normal hardly helps the situation.”  
  
  
  
I bathed and squeezed the excess milk out so that I was comfortable. Afterwards, we went to dinner. Círdan pulled my chair out and sat beside me. It was the first time I appeared in public since the birth. He put his arm around me and whispered in my ear that he was sorry. Cireolas was crying as usual.  
  
  
  
“That is easy to say and hard to prove.” I replied, and then stabbed my spoon into a small mound of tomato ice cream.  
  
  
  
“If you express milk into a bottle we can take turns at feeding and I promise, as much as nappies disgust me, I will help change them.” Círdan kissed my cheek. “I love you. I do not want you to be unhappy.” Another kiss. “I will take Cireolas to council meetings as Erestor suggested.”   
  
  
  
Now I could smile. I ate all of my dinner and let Cireolas feed from under my shirt. After I had finished Galadriel took my elfling; he did not dare cry in her arms. Celeborn asked if she wanted another child and she asked who would father it; his face was a picture. Celebrían fussed over Cireolas and told Elrond that she would like another elfling; he refused. Mel and Glorfindel were spotted having a sneaky kiss, with tongues, on the balcony later in the evening and Erestor and Legolas sat cuddled into one another as they listened to the minstrels. Haldir and Orophin found they had much in common with Galdor and Saelbeth, like they are male, love sex and have long hair. We did not see them for quite a bit of the night. I sat cuddled into Círdan and fell asleep after a while. I woke up in bed. My husband had carried me back to our rooms and undressed me. His arms were around me and Cireolas was asleep in the cot beside us. I snuggled backwards into my sleeping husband and closed my eyes until the morning.   
  
  



	2. My Fiftieth Begetting Night, Attempting to Amuse Myself, Ereinion the Fairy Queen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ereolas describes his fiftieth begetting night with Ereinion, from his first life when he was King Oropher.
> 
> Ereolas writes about how he escaped Ereinion’s tent to avoid being caught by Erestor. Elrond gives him some bad news.
> 
> Elrond brews some tea from some magic herbs he has found in the next valley. Ereinion is convinced he is the Fairy Queen. Sauron pees his pants with laughter and is mortified when he realises the elves can hear him. Ereinion spanks Erestor. Mel tells Ereolas that he smells.

**My Fiftieth Begetting Night.**

 

Ereinion kissed me full on the lips as I lay on his bed. His fingertips stroked from my hip, in a semi-circle, around to my hardness. An involuntary and delightful shudder and I was lost. We smiled and in our eyes was perfect understanding that for years to come this would be one of the most special experiences of my life.

 

“You are so beautiful,” Ereinion breathed. “I was told of your beauty and even so you took my breath away.” He kissed my neck whilst a finger traced the curve of my ear to the point.

 

Unable to deal with the multitude of sensations my hips rocked unconsciously, trying to increase the closeness of our bodies. Strong hands held me in place, pressing me down into the bed as the delicious licking, kissing and gentle biting continued down to my nipples. Breathing deeply, I buried my fingers into Ereinion’s long black hair and whispered, “ Valar.”

 

I could feel him smiling and he stopped briefly to kiss my lips with a lustful hunger that made me beg him for release. He grinned. ”We are not nearly at that point, young one.”

 

He lay on his side and I lay to face him. The kissing continued and I ran my hand along the strong, well-defined muscles of his arm. He stroked the skin on my lower back in wide circles, passing lower with every sweep and kneading the muscles so that I thought I would die from the pleasure. Ereinion moved over me and I lay on my back. He held my arse cheeks in a firm grip as his lips slid over my arousal. My hands reached wildly for the headboard and I gripped the ornamental bars to hold on. My whole body writhed with the ecstasy of the feelings of intense pleasure coursing through it and still Ereinion maintained his action. I was in that special place that lasts only for a few seconds; my hips rose of the bed in an overwhelming shud der of passion as I released into Ereinion’s mouth. When it died down I relaxed boneless on the bed only half aware of my legs drawn up and a finger inside me.

 

Ereinion rose up to look at me, his hand still in position. I maintained my hold on the headboard and looked at him with half open eyes; my breathing shallow and rapid. He removed his finger, straddled my hips, and lay on top of me; his warm body pushing me down into the mattress so that I felt engulfed. Lips pressed on mine and my mouth opened willingly to taste the sweet, bitter saltiness of my release. My arousal hardened again; Ereinion looked at me and grinned. I do not know why but I started to laugh; it felt so good. He merely smiled and took a bottle of oil from the bedside table and flipped the cork stopper off.

 

“I have never felt anything like it.” I lay sated and relaxed with a wide grin on my face. In fact I had because my right hand is well practi ced in playing with my willy, but I had never, ever had an orgasm as strong as that. I looked at the small bottle, the contents of which Ereinion poured into his palm.

 

“We are going onto the next stage now. Do you know anything about love making, Oropher?” I nodded that I did not. Because I had been kept, more or less, in a gilded cage, I heard the occasional things, but there was no specific education or literature. This is why my parents were so keen for me to choose an elleth for my fiftieth begetting day experience. It would have been sensible if they had at least told me what I should do, cowards that they are.

 

“Well, this may seem strange to you but this is how ellon make love to one another. It is not the same as sex with an elleth.” He moved back down the bed and drew my legs up. His finger slipped in easily and I felt no pain. It did not feel good either. A second finger followed and I frowned. This d efinitely did not feel good. “The more you do this the more you will love it. It never feels that good the first few times.” I tensed as his fingers gently thrust in and out. “Relax and I will make this the most special moment of your life. You need to trust me.”

 

It occurred to me that he could talk like this because he was not the one with a couple of fingers up his arse. He stopped and waited for me, talking softly and reassuring me, so that I would relax.  Eventually I did and a third finger slipped in more easily. I smiled, as deep inside came a feeling that relaxed me even further and made me sigh with pleasure. Now I knew the secret of hidden joy. Over and over again he touched the spot and I knew that I wanted to do nothing but lay there and allow him to do as he desired. Releasing my hold on the headboard, I held onto my legs and waited for him, aching for his arousal to be buried deep inside my body.

 

Strong hands under my hips pulled me up and I felt the thick flesh pushing into me in a smooth glide. I felt impaled and totally at his mercy. He rocked in small movements and the feeling of pleasure from inside coursed through me. I now know how lucky I was to have someone so skilled for my first time. There was no burning, soreness or pain, just the deep waves of pleasure as my centre of hidden joy was stroked repeatedly. His tongue invaded my mouth and his arms held me as I bucked up to meet his now powerful thrusts. I could not last long and came loudly, my whole body contracted and transported into the sublimity of orgasm, but this time I was not alone. A brief and shared connection, where we were as one, and then we flopped exhausted onto the bed.

 

We did not need to talk and we lay sated in each other’s arms, occasionally stroking each other’s faces and giving small kisses. To think my parents wanted me to be entertained by an elle th. Neither could know the specialness of that which I enjoyed. At some point we drifted off into sleep. In the morning we awoke and Ereinion insisted that I return the favour. I like to think that I am the exceptional and stunningly gifted lover that I am, because of my first experience where I was taught not only how to receive pleasure but to give it too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I feel much better today. For once, I am not tired. Elrond examined me this morning and he said that I have an infection caused by the non-sterile conditions when Cireolas was born. This is why the scar is healing slowly and why I feel so awful. This was compounded by a lack of sleep due to Círdan’s selfishness. Elrond says he is going to overhaul the conditions of the healing rooms and oversee some advanced hygiene and sterile conditions training so that this does not happen again. He is an elf on a mission and, therefore, a happy one. I now have to drin k some quite disgusting tea, which no matter how it is flavoured, remains revolting. Still it seems to be working. My mood is happier and I have more strength.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Legolas and Galadriel accompanied me to the garden. I have not had any sunlight on my skin for days now. They laid on daybeds and sunned their bodies under Anor’s light while I lay on one fully clothed. Both had nothing on, but I did not feel that I should point out the rules of etiquette after they have been so caring towards me. I wore a light silk robe; apparently I could make myself weaker if I stripped off, plus I have a huge scar that I am a bit shy of anyone seeing. I could hear Cireolas crying in the distance and it was like sweet music to my ears. Círdan had the little orc with him and was attempting to placate him with a bottle, from the sound of it. Through the open window, I could hear Erestor and Celeborn advising him, but offering no help. I really shou ld not have smirked! It gets better and better. Galadriel and Legolas trotted off down to the river for a picnic, leaving me alone; I wish I could have gone with them.

 

Tonight Cireolas will be presented to the Valar and they will lift him up to the stars and fill him with the inner light that Thranduil and I possess. It is a rare and special event and only a few elves walk Middle-earth possessing the gift of light. Galadriel, Legolas and Glorfindel are the only other elves I know who can appear luminous at will. I am looking forward to it and of course, I will record the events in my journal!

 

 

  
  
 **Attempting to Amuse Myself**

 

  
  


 

I was feeling so good when I wrote my last entry but by the evening all had changed. Since then I have had the worst of times. Damn it all! Why did I have to be born with Legolas’ curse? I adore my little ion and he is not the reason for my anger, nor is he the cause. The willfully careless healers, who cut my belly open to deliver Cireolas, are now languishing in the cells. They will stay there until they learn to do their job properly or I will have them executed. Elrond agrees with me; he says that it is the safest place to put them as he considers them only half-trained and dangerous, although he suggests sending them to Valinor and letting the Valar deal with them. I believe Erestor has spent a happy morning psychologically torturing them; he does it so well.

 

Anyway, I stopped writing my last entry just before my little one was due to be presented to the Valar. It went well, for everyone except me, and Mel was a ccidently presented too. Perhaps I will write about it, but I need to make myself happier and stop dwelling on my depressing predicament, so I am going to write about Ereinion first and, if I have time, I will write about sweet Alatáriël, who I eventually knew as Queen Crabbyarse. She is always good for a gratuitous laugh when one is feeling down. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ereinion was the sunlight before the grey misery of the far approaching storm; the excitement before the blandness that I thought would last the rest of my life. I wished that he had never shown me how good sex could be because I would not have been so dissatisfied when I made love to my wife. I would not have known how good it could be and I would have been happy to settle for far less.

 

  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 

It took a full week for my future wife’s family to arrive. Apparently, orcs, falling rocks and a flood that swept away half their possessions held t hem up. I did not care; my time was spent productively in Ereinion’s bed enjoying the pleasures of the flesh.

 

Years later when we fought in the same battles, we would meet up and share a bed. Our unions were the sparse highlights in the ennui that was my life with Alatáriël. We also shared a bed when I was Círdan’s lover; what he did not know could not hurt him. Of course, it was necessary that our respective lovers were not around when we fucked. I remember that before Círdan’s arrival, at one of the many battles we fought in, Ereinion sent Erestor off to find some magic herbs. They argued about it and Erestor accused Ereinion of talking out of his arse. However, Ereinion was adamant that magic herbs grew in the next valley, even though he knew they probably did not. Elrond decided to accompany Erestor, because he had a major crush on him, and that left the way free for Ereinion and me to spend the night furiously having sex in his tent.

 

It always amuses me that Erestor wrote in the Elven Chronicles that I was never unfaithful to my wife, Alatáriël, until I met Círdan. He could not bear that Ereinion occasionally took lovers, even though he was guilty of the same crime himself. Anyway, our illicit joy was short lived. Elrond recognised some hallucinogenic herbs and he and Erestor came chuntering back while it was still light, leaving me no option but to sneak under the flap at the back of the tent and run off quickly, hoping that no one could see me with my clothes over one arm, boots under the other and clad only in a loin cloth.

 

One of my advisors reached out and grabbed one of my legs as I ran past his tent. I fell flat on my face. According to Ereinion, Erestor saw me from a distance and laughed. Apparently, he said, ‘Look at that idiot Oropher. He has obviously been tent hopping and has just fallen over in the mud. Serve s him right. I hope he hurt himself.’ According to Ereinion, both Elrond and Erestor laughed at my misfortune and wondered who the unlucky elf was who had been the unfortunate recipient of my attentions. Then Erestor told Ereinion that he was glad I did not spend the night with him as he would have been very angry indeed. I expect Ereinion was glad Erestor thought that; even though he was much younger than both of us he was very well skilled in the art of subtle psychological torture. Elrond was Erestor’s lap dog and admirer. Erestor saw nothing wrong in taking him to bed when Ereinion was away, but he played merry hell if he even suspected that Ereinion had done the same to him.

 

Do not misunderstand me; Erestor is my ada, in this life, and I love him. However, when I was Oropher he was not the most pleasant elf in my circle. He was a brilliant strategist, advisor, planner, spy, torturer and organiser; without him victory would have been less forthcoming in the many battles we fought. However, he could never forget, or forgive, that I was the one who slapped his arse one hundred times, and made him count each one, when he was an elfling. The bastard held that against me until I died.

 

Imagine my surprise and panic when I discovered that he was my ada when I was reborn. It was like waking from a nightmare to find a new one has begun. I opened my eyes and saw Erestor looking at me and smiling and making little cooing noises. I had to tell him how much I disapproved of being born with no clothes on, but at least he let me hold his ear which is a necessary comfort device for any baby. In a fit of absolute stupidity and anger at seeing my ion, Thranduil, wearing my royal circlet, in spite of having a perfectly good one of his own, I unwittingly told everyone my real identity. To give Erestor his due, he was a much-changed elf and I think that his love for Legolas was a big factor in this. He was, an d remains, a fantastic ada who genuinely loves both Mel and me. I do not think any elf could ask for more.

 

I am so tired. I am feeding Cireolas and then he is taken from me so I can rest. It is all because those stupid bloody healers put more faith in elven healing powers than being clean.

 

Last night, I stood in the clearing, under the stars, and held my baby ion up to the sky for the Valar to bless. “Lord Manwë and Lady Yavanna I present my ion, Cireolas, to you, to bless and make your own.” I hoped Cireolas would be gifted with being able to emit light at will, as I was in my first life. It is a useful gift indeed and one that I still have in this life as well.  Círdan does not have the gift of illumination at will although he does have a faint glow that I find most attractive.

 

I felt my arms weakening and I swayed slightly. Mel jumped forward and held Cireolas as well as myself. “ Mel,” I said. “You are to be presented too?” He smiled and I watched through increasingly confused and dizzy eyes as my ion was taken from my hands and rose up into the air.

 

I was vaguely aware that Círdan tried to run towards me but was stopped by Elrond who urgently hissed something I did not catch. Then a strange thing happened. Mel rose up in the air and he met up with Cireolas who was laughing fit to burst. They were surrounded with light and sparkling stars. I could hear their laughter and that is all I remember. I am told that I fainted, Círdan caught me and Elrond accompanied us to the healing rooms. I was told that Mel held onto Cireolas and they can now glow at will, as well as enjoying other Valar given gifts. Mel is overjoyed because he and Glorfindel are able to glow together now. How romantic. Cireolas could not care less; and, more to the point, neither can I.

 

My infection was not getting bet ter with the herbs that Elrond gave me, although it grew much more slowly. He said that it was too well established for them to work effectively. “It is simply not clean enough here for me to do anything practical about your infection. You really need to be in Imladris; that would be the ideal place for treating you.”

 

I gave a tired smile. “It is not like I am going to die is it?”

 

“That is exactly what I am afraid of.” Elrond’s words hit me like a hammer blow on the head.

 

“I do not want to die.” I was aware that my voice was breaking. He put an arm around my shoulders and reassured me that we would leave for Imladris as soon as possible.

 

As soon as I was told that, I had the killer healers put in the cells of no return. Círdan protested at first but when I showed him my scar, which was dehisced and leaking, he took a sharp intake of breath and agreed immediately. If I die, they will be executed; the paperwork is drawn up already and signed by both of us, complete with royal seals, and that is that.

 

So there it is. My ion’s first celebration was ruined for everyone. It is lucky that Cireolas will not mind and Mel is positively delighted that he can glow. He says that it is most fortunate for him that I am ill. Someone needs to give him a jolly hard kick up the arse.

 

I feel so angry and useless. All I can do is sleep and write. The dressing changes are so painful that my whole day is divided into two compartments. Before the dressing change, I spend the morning in dread anticipation. After the dressing change, I can relax because it will not be changed again until the next day. I hold on to Círdan and grit my teeth, even though Elrond is as careful as he can be. The smell is revolting and makes me heave. I do not know how any healer can stand it. I am so depressed and feel the need to laugh again. Nothing makes me happy any more, but I refuse to give in.

 

 

  
 **Ereinion, the Fairy Queen**

 

 

It is the evening and Mel has just been to visit, turning his glow on and off like a flashing beacon. I had to tell him to stop as I was feeling rather nauseated. He did not stay long; he wanted to interrogate Legolas about never presenting him to the Valar when he was a baby. I would not have presented him either. He was a little bastard when he was young and would have driven everyone to distraction with his light flashing abilities. His parting shot was that he could smell me and it was not very nice. Sometimes I wonder how Glorfindel can love the little shite because he is still badly behaved, even now.

 

Haldir visited shortly after. He apologised for not seeing me very often, but he was distracted by flaunting a young warrior in front of Celeborn, his soul mate, who is still married to Galadriel. “Perhaps he will become jealous enough to develop a backbone and leave the bitch.” Haldir did not really want t o be with the warrior and seemed quite miserable. Maybe in Valinor he will be happy.

 

Galadriel visited about five minutes after Haldir left. She asked me if I thought Haldir was still pursuing Celeborn. How I wish they would not involve me in their little love squabbles. Still, she insisted on placing her hands over my belly and giving me some of her healing energy, which apparently she has the ability to do. I do feel slightly better, strangely enough. I thought she was trying to get a gratuitous peep at my horrible dressings and my enormous willy, but now I know better!

 

Círdan came to see me after Galadriel left and he spent most of the night with me in his arms. He is devastated about Elrond’s diagnosis and is very careful in what he says so that we do not argue. Both of us have quick and explosive tempers, but somehow we have managed to rein them in and enjoy a period of peace. Mel is right, I do smell and it revolts me. I am an elf; unpleasant smells upset me. Círdan says nothing and Cireolas does not seem to mind, but I am aware of it all the time. He held me close and kissed me in-between speaking words of love and stroking my face and shoulders. He makes me feel like an elf again, a very precious elf. If I were to die, which I do not intend ever doing again, I want Círdan’s face to be the last image I see before I close my eyes.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Back to the hallucinogenic herbs that Erestor and Elrond found on the way to the next valley. Ereinion drank a tea made from them by Elrond. Erestor and his devious partner in crime said that they did not want any as they already had some on the way back to the encampment. Half an hour late, the ever-trusting Ereinion was dancing around outside his tent, while wearing a pink tutu, proclaiming to all that he was the Fairy Queen of Arda. I knew one thing for sure; we would never have sex with him playing the part of a ballerina again.

 

Erestor wrote a note to Sauron saying that there would be no battle that day as it was inconvenient and they had better things to do; however, they could fit him in for a mini-battle the day after next, if he was agreeable. A loud guffawing came from the other side, as Sauron, who was obviously spying on our camp with a watching device, screeched with evil and maniacal laughter and accidently broadcast it over the whole of the elven encampments. “Damn, that is so funny, I just wet my pants,” we heard him say before emitting more laughter. He quickly became aware that what he was saying was being loudly transmitted in our direction. He panicked. “Shit, they can hear me. Shit, I just told them that I peed my pants. Oh shit, how do you turn this thing off?”

 

After escaping out of the back of Ereinion’s tent, necessary because Erestor arrived back from his magi c herb expedition much earlier than expected, my advisor had tripped me up and dragged me into his tent, advising me to dress straightaway and brazen it out; after all, I could not be in two places at once. He suspected that Erestor had seen me but he could not be sure. This was rather good actually, because it meant that most of the warriors under my command did not see me. I was spared the waggling eyebrows and knowing looks, not to mention the lewd comments, and I was able to saunter back to Ereinion’s tent and ask what was going on. By this time, Ereinion was trying to convince Erestor that he did not need to go back in the tent and change out of his fairy costume and Sauron was trying stop whatever it was that was broadcasting his voice over our encampment.

 

“Erestor, do you think it is wise for Ereinion to be making such a fool of himself?” I admonished. “You are supposed to be the one who loves him. What would the enemy sa y if they saw him like this? They would lose all respect for him.”

 

Erestor looked unhappy and said it was too late, they already knew. I walked over to Ereinion and took his arm leading him back to his tent. “Oh hello, love bunny.” He grinned and tried to kiss me. I replied in a firm voice that I was not Erestor and he should go to bed. “Only if you come with me, big boy! You can be my Oberon and I can be Titania.” He screeched, wiggled his bum, then pulled a fan out of his lace and feather embroidered knickers and waved it coyly in front of his face.

 

“What is wrong with him Erestor?” I made out I knew nothing about the herbs.

 

“His herbal tea was a bit stronger than we thought.” Erestor looked very unhappy and so did Elrond. “He will be very angry with me when he comes down off it.”

 

I took Ereinion into the tent and we chang ed him into a suitable pair of regal pyjamas. Meanwhile, Elrond went off to collect Saelir, my chief healer. At the time, Elrond was not terribly good at curing elves and really did learn from his mistakes. Soon the high king was in a deep sleep and did not wake until the next morning, unaware that a day was missing from his life.

 

We never told Ereinion about what happened, but he found out about a hundred years later anyway. Happily, he was able to laugh about it, although Elrond informed me that Erestor got a good spanking for his part in what happened. However, he considered that Erestor would have received one that day anyway, simply because Ereinion found spanking a huge turn on. Even Erestor agreed that Ereinion was not one to hold a grudge. “He felt like spanking me and any excuse would have done,” he admitted unhappily. “Last week he made me sleep with a tulip up my arse.” Later that week, Erestor received another spanki ng when Ereinion caught him in the healing tent with Elrond holding his butt cheeks in his hands in an attempt to deliver ‘healing energy’. The excuse would have worked if Elrond had been wearing his leggings.

 

I find that I have gone off at a tangent, yet again. Anyway, after getting Ereinion off to bed Erestor grudgingly thanked me for my help; to say he was relieved is an understatement.  He did not relish the argument and shouting that would result from his stupidity and he was genuinely worried that he had hurt Ereinion. From that day on, Erestor treated me with less contempt although it would be wrong to say that we were friends.

 

We are friends now though, because he is my ada! Sometimes I find it hard to reconcile my ada with the young Erestor. Both are complete bastards but of a different order. Ada Erestor is nothing like the elf he used to be, and of that I will always be eternally thankful. Although, it is tr ue to say that only his family will cross him.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It takes all day just to write a few words. It is hard to stay awake and yet the quality of sleep is not good either because I am constantly being disturbed.

I am sleeping in the healing rooms because that is where Elrond and Náessë, the Imladrian bitch healer who accompanied his party, can look after me without disturbing anyone. Náessë’s room is beside this one and she wakes me every two hours to give me some disgusting herbal crap, which tastes repulsive. I asked her to give me a drink of orange juice afterwards, to take away the unpleasant taste, and she asked me if I was an elf or an elfling; she is often quite off hand to the point of rudeness but never in front of anyone. After I drink the medicine, she insists on turning me on my other side, quite roughly I might add, and piling pillows behind my back and one in-between my legs so my knees do not rub together, which makes me too hot. When she leaves the room, I throw them on the floor.

 

The night is a lonely time for me. Even though Náessë irritates the life out of me it is not as bad as having no one there at a ll. I can hear her in the next room, her knitting needles are clacking away and the sound is driving me up the wall. I cannot tell her to stop because in some perverse way I suspect she will find it very satisfying that she is irritating me so. Healers are supposed to be nice and caring but this one obviously trained under the tutelage of Sauron.

 

Moan, moan, moan, it seems that is all I do nowadays. I am a prince and a former king; I should not have to put up with this! It seems I have lost all my dignity and anyone can do anything they bloody well like with me! I feel angry all the time now and I am scared because I can feel myself becoming weaker.

 

The healing rooms have been repainted and scrubbed clean. All the instruments are sterilised by boiling, then heating in the new oven that Elrond had installed yesterday. Anything that is unable to be sterilised has been thrown away. Perhaps they should throw me away. According to Elrond, I a m full of germs.

 

Why is life so shitty? Why can I not be as I used to be? It is at times like this that I feel at my lowest and have no hope for the future in the dark hours of the night when I sleep alone.

 

Círdan has just read this last bit of my entry, peering over my shoulder to do so. He came to visit because he misses me, and he loves me. He says that I am depressed and he will talk to Elrond in the morning about it. No doubt, I will be made to drink even more nasty stuff. The quill and paper have to go away now as I am going to snuggle up with my love.

 

 

 


	3. The Strange Measuring Elf, Riddles, Suspicions and Assurances, The Wicker Coffin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ereolas is moved to Imladris where he starts to recover.

**The Strange Measuring Elf.**   
  


Náessë found Círdan in bed with me and tried to shoo him out, saying it was inappropriate and not the done thing. Círdan told her that he was Lord of Mithlond and would do as he liked. She threatened to wake Elrond and then tried to forcibly pull him from the bed. My wonderful husband threatened to have her arrested and thrown in the cells. He said that he would stay until morning so that Elrond could see us both together and if he had any objections he could voice them then.

 

To Náessë’s chagrin, Elrond thought it a good idea that Círdan stay overnight; he said I would be less depressed. She stormed off, not looking very happy at all. Círdan and Elrond indulged in a muted discussion, punctuated with small amounts of laughter. I tried to listen, as it was about me, but in the end I fell asleep. The upshot is that I now have another liquid to drink. But, guess what? It tastes of flowers; so that is good isn’t it?

 

It is very strange. An elf walked into my room, late this morning, with a measuring rule and used it to determine the length and width of my body. He did it when he thought I was asleep!

 

I asked Elrond what this could mean and he said that they needed my measurements to make something for me, but it would be a surprise. It is hard to keep up on gossip in this secluded room. I just know that Círdan is telling people not to stay too long and not to excite me. Damn swine!

 

Erestor visited and told me that Glorfindel had gone on a trip and dragged Mel with him. Apparently, Mel was not happy because he had a hangover and wanted to stay in bed. I am rather satisfied to hear that he feels rough. Anyway, Ada spent a happy half hour telling me about how he terrified the healers in the cells. He says that he took a large pot plant along, hacked the leaves and stem off with a big knife, then said, “Take note of what I have just done to this plant…” He giggled as he recounted how they pleaded that it was not their fault that I am ill. This is not something to say to Erestor, who is an absolute psychopath when it comes to seeking revenge for his family.

 

I told Erestor that a strange elf had come into my bedroom while I was asleep and measured me. He replied that he was not surprised and that the reason Glorfindel had gone off on his trip was to do with me too. Then he said that I was too weak to endure the two weeks travel it would take to get to Imladris and they had to look at other means.

 

 “Ada, tell me what you mean.”

 

Erestor replied that I should not trouble myself about it and he seemed far more concerned than I thought he should. I am worried more than ever now!

 

Thank the Valar I have this journal to write. I shall have to deduce what is going on. Are they deliberately creating a mystery to keep my mind off my predicament or is there something sinister going on?

 

It is dressing time and Elrond is getting the linens ready. Valar, I dread this.

 

*****************

 

Now on to happier things. I spent the whole week in bed with Ereinion after my fiftieth begetting night. I was able to because my future wife’s family had not arrived. I had so much fun with him. He has a wicked sense of humour and I doubt I had ever laughed so freely in my life. We spent the week making love and enjoying ourselves. Of course, this all took place before Erestor was born; his fëa still had a few years to play in the gardens of Estë before that would happen.

 

It ended all too soon. On the eighth morning, an advisor came to the room and said that my future wife’s party was on the horizon and we should get ready to meet them. He supplied clothing and handed me a little book on the etiquette of marriage for young elves. Flicking through, I saw that it had a small chapter about sex. Of course, I read that chapter first.

 

We made our way into the courtyard. “Where have you been, you little shite?” My ada glared at me. “Your nana has been worried sick.”

 

“In bed with Ereinion of course.” I replied rather irritably and flicked through my book.

 

“Well you can knock that little affair on the head from now on.” My nana slapped me around the top of my head and from behind I could hear Ereinion tittering. “Alatáriël is a lovely elleth, and she is a princess, albeit minor, but one nonetheless.”

 

I continued to flick through the small book because I was bored and the diagrams were rather interesting. “You wouldn’t have needed that book if you had chosen an elleth on your begetting night.”

 

“Ada, I have had a whole week of what I am sure will turn out to be the hottest sex of my life, so I think I chose wisely indeed.”

 

“Well you could have had hot sex with an elleth.” My ada hissed at me. “I always give your nana hot sex and she is an elleth.”

 

“What?” I asked incredulously and not really wanting an answer. I could hear Ereinion behind me positively cakking himself with laughter, although he was trying not to be too loud.

 

“Do you have a problem with your hearing, Oropher?” My nana boomed. “Your ada said he always gives me hot sex.” This was too much for Ereinion, he let out a loud peal of laughter at my nana’s statement and when we turned to look at him, he was bent double and had tears running down his face. “Turn around Oropher; do not encourage him. He is being very silly.”

 

The carriage drew up and a guard opened the door. Out stepped a vastly overweight elf. I had never seen such an excessively stout elf and never have since. “That is Prince Coamenel.” My nana made no comment about him being so plump. I heard Ereinion remark, much louder than necessary to his advisor that he hoped the princess was not as heavy.

 

An elleth who was incredibly thin and superior looking embarked next. “He steals her food.” Ereinion said and I fell about laughing. My ada dug me in the ribs and I fell over, landing on my nana, who in turn fell on the next person. Soon about fifty elves had crashed into one another and fallen on the ground. Above it all, I could hear Ereinion howling loudly with laughter. “If Oropher was not promised to Alatáriël, I would insist on marrying him myself; he is just so bloody funny.”

 

The next person to leave the coach was an incredibly beautiful elleth, looking every inch a princess. She was the very essence of loveliness, but I felt no attraction whatsoever. My ada took my arm, rather forcefully I thought, and marched me over to the carriage. Ereinion scurried after us, with my nana in tow, and barged past my ada to greet the visitors first.

 

********************

 

My reminiscences never fail to amuse me. Now if only my life here could be as much fun. Well until I had Cireolas, it was fun.

 

Náessë has told me to stop writing because I am wearing myself out. It is all I have to do and I do not see why I should, I am a prince and former king and she is not, it is the natural order of things that she should not tell me what to do. I refused and she stormed out of the room and came back with Elrond. I cannot believe it. I am being treated like an elfling. He is about to take my journal and quill away. I am going to sulk all night now. I hope Círdan  sleeps in here with me tonight.

 

**Riddles, suspicions and assurances.**

 

Glorfindel and Mel arrived back home this morning and they came to see me. Mel kept sniffing at a handkerchief, which he had sprayed with perfume so strong that it caught my breath. Glorfindel lost his temper and shouted at him to put it away. “It smells in here,” my half-wit brother whined.

 

“You have spent the whole trip complaining and I am getting pretty irritated with you.” Glorfindel is not an elf I would want to have angry with me, but Mel did not seem to care. “If you cannot be polite than get out.” He glared at my rotten big brother. “It is a spanking for you, young one, if you do not behave.”

 

“Don’t care.” Mel sprang up from his seat. “I am sorry Ereolas but I am finding it impossible to be polite and so Glorfindel says I have to go.” He kissed my forehead, wrinkled his nose in disgust and ran out of the room.

 

“I am sorry he is so rude, but we did what we set out to do and everything seems to be going to plan.” Glorfindel gave me a hug. “Be good now.” He kissed my forehead and walked to the door, whilst taking his thick leather belt off and folding it in his hand.

 

“What is going to plan?” I asked loudly as he opened the door.

 

“Don’t concern yourself. Just concentrate on getting better.” Glorfindel grinned. “See you later; right now, I have a recalcitrant husband to discipline.” I hope he whips Mel’s ass red raw and he squeals like a woman having her underarm hairs plucked.

 

I was now alone so I picked up my journal and quill.

 

**********

All the proper introductions were observed and I was quite a way down the pecking order, being behind two kings and a queen. Prince Coamenel introduced Alatáriël to me. She gave a deep curtsey and looked at me as though I was an insect, so I looked at her as though she was one too. I visualised her as a small dung beetle. Correct etiquette meant that I was expected to stay by her side for the rest of the day. She told me that she had a personal maid for everything and was rather proud of the fact that her maid wiped her bottom after going to the toilet! I determined that would change immediately.

 

Her ada was the minor prince of a state over the other side of the mountains. His realm was rich principally because of its exclusive silkworm industry and they bought me many fine sets of silk clothing as a wedding present. They were also sitting on top of a gold seam that ran though the centre of the princedom. Of course, they bought lots of gold too. Her ada liked to boast about his riches and I saw my parents look at one another with a silent, superior look, which meant they considered the prince and his wife to be very common indeed. My nana whispered in my ear that Prince Coamenel was ‘new money’ but at least his wife had the manners that came from good breeding. “It must be hard for her to be married to such a repulsive ellon,” she remarked in an aside to my ada. I overhead her and I suspect Alatáriël did too.

 

We went to our bedroom to change into our wedding clothes. I was going to be sleeping with Alatáriël that night which meant that our marriage would take place that afternoon.

 

“How old are you Alatáriël?” I asked pleasantly.

 

“I am fifty,” she replied. “Why?”

 

“Nothing really. I just wondered who you spent your begetting night with. I spent mine with Ereinion.” I knew that little titbit would get back to her ultra snobby parents and, hopefully, make her feel inadequate because I felt that she had nothing to feel superior about.

 

“My begetting day was three days ago and we were attacked by orcs and in the evening some of our possessions were washed away.” She looked at me with big eyes. “I was devastated that I could not share my begetting day with the one who it to be the most important elf in my life.” That told me.

 

I was tempted to ask who that might be; she seemed such a scheming little minx. Still I took her into my arms and held her tight because that is what she expected me to do. I made the appropriate noises and she asked me why I had not spent my begetting night with an elleth. I charmed the very pants off her as I replied that I had to pick an ellon, as she was the only elleth that I could ever consider sleeping with.

 

The wedding went smoothly and we were not asked to bind, for which, I learned later, I had Ereinion to thank. He said we were too young and he was not convinced that we even loved one another. Apparently, there was much arguing, but he is High King and simply refused to allow the wedding to go ahead anywhere on Middle-earth if both sets of parents did not obey him.

 

We arrived back in our rooms and I gave her a present to commemorate our day. Her eyes lit up in surprise as I gave her a pendant made of mithril, which is more precious than gold, with a seventy-carat diamond set in the centre.

 

“This is priceless,” she gasped and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. I do not know about anyone else but if I give a seventy-carat diamond to someone I expect a bit more than a quick kiss on the cheek. However, I remained kingly and polite and told her that I was glad she liked her little bauble.

 

“It is hardly little,” she said.

 

I said nothing and allowed myself to be corrected by her. I could not care less. My week of constant sex had left me worn out and I wanted to go to sleep. “I think, sweet one that we should retire.”

 

We bathed together and I washed her hair. I could tell that she was warming to me; it is because I have extremely sexy fingers that, thanks to Ereinion, know just where to touch. I was very gentle and she was quite relaxed by the time we climbed into bed. Somehow, she had swiftly donned a whole body covering nightdress.

 

“I would want to see what is now mine,” I said softly to her. Of course, I was gloriously nude. She probably felt overawed by my incredible beauty and put the nightdress on because she felt inadequate and knew she could not compare. I was willing to forgive her, in the name of equanimity, any shortcomings she might possess, but I had to get that damn nightdress off her first, so that I could see what she was like. She was reluctant and resisted my suggestion that she should remove it. “I intend on making love to you, Alatáriël.” She sat dumbly looking at me, so I took the front of the garment and tore it in two down the centre of her chest. She gasped and her eyes nearly popped out of her head with excitement. “When you come to bed with me, I expect you to be nude and ready for me. Do you understand?” She nodded like a frightened bunny, never once taking her eyes off me. Personally, I would have slapped my face if I had been her.

 

****************

 

If I had said any of that to Círdan , he would have fallen off the bed laughing. Círdan  is one of the most voraciously sexual elves I have ever encountered. To look at him you would not think so. He has his furry, very close cropped beard and is agreeable and polite in company but close the bedroom door and he is a tiger. That is all right though, because I am also a tiger. We rut like tigers too and growl a lot. I am now giggling at what I have just written, it sounds so silly, but essentially, it is true.

 

The first time we had sex I expected to be on top because he looked so sweet, fluffy and gentle and, according to him, I have a dangerously feral sexiness; I did not make that up; he really did say it. He surprised and excited me by quickly taking over and pinning me to the bed with his body, which was easily as muscular and as big as mine. His robes hide a lot of it, so I did not suspect that there would be such well-built delights hidden underneath. He was stronger than I was, probably because he builds boats, therefore doing more physical hard work than I do. However, I will write about my first encounter with him another time as I am getting turned on and do not want to end up in pain because I have been tugging my todger. Hahahahahaha! My nana would have slapped my head for saying todger.

 

**************

 

Náessë has brought a pile of thick blankets and a thick quilt into the room. She is folding them up in the corner and placing them on a chair. When I asked her why she was putting them in my room, she told me not to worry and to get some sleep. When I am told not to worry the underlying implication is that there is something to be concerned about.

 

Yesterday, I am embarrassed to admit, I fainted during the dressing change. The smell made my eyes water and I felt nauseated. The pain was horrendous but I could have withstood it if the smell had not been so bad. Black spots appeared in front of my eyes and my heart pounded in my ears; I felt dizzy then everything went black. Elrond has said that he has something for me to take before the dressing change today, so that I will not be so stressed. Círdan retorted that he should have given me something well before today. I am getting worse and I am becoming seriously worried about my predicament, for the first time I feel that Elrond might be right.

 

**The wicker coffin**

 

I keep hearing loud bird cries and the flapping of wings through the window; it is most strange. I asked Elrond what the sound was and he said it was probably the eagles. When I asked him what he meant, he said I was not to get excited and all would be made plain in due course. He held my shoulders and lifted me up a bit so I could drink the drugged tea that he held to my lips. I am too weak to pick the cup up myself and have noticeably weakened overnight. I am so helpless and I feel like a baby; it is so demeaning. It is hard even to use my quill, as it requires concentration and movement. I am feeling rather sleepy now, which means it is dressing change time. Círdan has arrived and he wants me to stop writing.

 

*************

 

It is four days since I last picked up my journal and quill. I have much to record.

 

Elrond changed the dressing and the drugged tea did not ease the pain but made me so sleepy that only the worst of it could wake me. Unfortunately, I vomited over Círdan’s shoulder as he was holding me, which is a side effect of the tea according to Elrond. I felt extremely ill afterwards. Elrond looked worried and forced some more nasty muck down my throat. “That should make you feel better.” He grinned at me and wiped my face with a wet cloth.

 

Círdan left the room to wash and change his clothing. While he was away, a wicker box about my size was delivered to the room. Of course, I totally freaked out; it looked like one of the coffins we use in Mithlond. I was outraged and upset by the hastiness in anticipating my death because surely that is what they expected with such an item being delivered to my room.

 

 

“I haven’t even gone yet, you heartless bastard.” I yelled at Elrond, who immediately put his arms around me and pronounced that I was delirious. He tried to calm me down but I shouted and roared for all I was worth. They were not going to put me in a coffin yet. Of that, I was determined. Erestor and Legolas heard the commotion while sitting in the garden. My voice carried through the window and so they quickly came to my aid. “I know I am dying, but why did Elrond have to show me my coffin?” I was hysterical to say the least.

 

Ada Legolas held my head to his chest and stroked my head. “Listen to me, Ereolas.” He kept stroking and Erestor got on the bed and held me from behind. “The wicker basket is to lay you in so that the giant eagles can carry you to Imladris, where your illness can be treated. You are too weak to survive the two-week journey by road.” He made what he thought were soothing noises. “You have to lie in the basket to make sure you stay flat and we will follow on the other eagles.”

 

“Ada, promise me it is not a coffin?” I gripped the front of his clothing, as I did when an elfling, and snuggled into the rock hard muscles of his chest. I wanted to hold his ear but my arm was not strong enough to reach that far. I remember when I was small that Legolas had softer muscles. One could get a better quality cuddle then.

 

“I promise it is not a coffin,” I could almost feel him smirking at his silly ion.

 

“You promise too, Ada?” I said to Erestor, who tried to sound serious and gave me his word that what Legolas said was true.

 

Círdan walked back into the room, wearing fresh clothing, and smiled at me while Legolas gave him a potted version of my reaction at seeing the wicker coffin. My only one grinned and then he kissed my cheek. “It will be lined with thick blankets and more will go over you so that you remain warm.” He took over from Legolas and held me in his arms, drawing the blankets up to my shoulders.

 

“Supposing I fall out?”

 

“You will not. The eagles are very careful.”

 

“There is always a first time.”

 

“Meleth, I would not be happy for you to go if there was any chance of that happening.” He stroked my head and Erestor gave Círdan a cup of fruit juice for me to drink.

 

 “At least it is not drugged like the shit that Elrond gives me.” I said happily and they smiled, encouraging me to drink every last drop.

 

Of course, it was drugged. Five minutes later, I could hardly move and felt extremely heavy and drowsy. With an uncaring air of detachment, I watched as they lined the wicker basket with thick heavy covers. Neither did I bat an eyelid as Círdan placed me inside with my quill and journal, which he placed on my chest. More covers were placed over me and tucked in. Nothing seemed real anymore and I did not care. Thick leather ties drew the sides of the basket together at the top, securing me within, with a small space left for my face so I could breathe. I was warm, snug and very sleepy. For a fleeting moment I thought that this must what it is like for baby birds when their parents sit on them in the nest.

 

I slept throughout the journey and remember nothing of the flight. The transfer from my nest to a bed in Imladris was enough to wake me, though I did not stay awake for very long. The next hour saw me waking twice: when being washed and changed into some sort of thin gown, that did not do up at the back, and when Círdan  came to see me after arriving on the next eagle. I fell asleep quickly after each disruption.

 

I vaguely remember that Elrond was talking to Círdan, who looked upset, but I was beyond caring. I also remember being taken into another room and Elrond and several healers looking at my scar and discussing what was to be done. Then he looked at me and said that he did not think I could have any more elflings. He looked like he was very sorry, but I smiled with relief. Willingly, I drank the tiny glass of nasty stuff that the healer by my head gave me, and then I had to drink another glass of a white liquid that, oddly enough, tasted of fruit. I tried to stay awake but a few seconds later my eyelids closed.

 

According to Círdan, I did not wake for two days because Elrond kept me asleep. When I did awake, it was slowly, over several hours. That was during the day, but now it is nighttime and I am wide-awake. The pain is well controlled and I am alive. Hurrah!!! Círdan has gone off to bed now and I am going to write some more about my life as Oropher.

 

******************

 

It was too easy. Any other elleth would have walloped me across the head for being so controlling in setting out my demands on how they should present themselves to me when we went to bed, but Alatáriël did not. I made a mental note to tear every nightdress she ever wore to bed. She found it exciting and I found her wide eyed reaction a huge turn on.

 

“Do you know how to kiss?” I asked Alatáriël and she said that she did. I kissed her and found that indeed she could give me a run for my money. “Sweet one, you do not have to tell me; however, I will be rather persistent until you do; where did you learn how to kiss like that?”

 

“I practised with my maid so that I would be good enough for you,” she replied. “It was my ada’s idea and he would watch to make sure we did it correctly, sometimes he insisted on demonstrating himself. I did not like it at all.”

 

I was mortified. The perverted bastard! “Your maid will have to return with your parents. I will not tolerate the presence of anyone who has enjoyed your affections.” It sounds harsh, I know, but when a wife brings a maid they often conspire together against the husband and get up to all sorts of mischief. Ereinion and my ada pointed this out after Alatáriël arrived. I believe my ada did something similar to my mother, so it was a common practice even then.

 

“But I will know no one when we go to the Greenwood. I will be alone.” A small tear ran down her cheek.

 

“I will be with you and you will soon make friends. We will be spending most of our time together.” I kissed her and she put her arms around her knees and started to cry, softly mumbling that it was not fair. In the back of my mind, I remained scandalised that she had a maid to wipe her arse. She needed to be more self-reliant or else she would not get along well in the Greenwood at all. I kissed her again and stroked a finger around the areola of her nipple. “Do not cry, sweet one.” My voice was gentle, and I licked the curve of her sweet little ear with my tongue. She did have lovely ears; in fact they were my favourite part of her and I nearly developed an ear fetish. I still compare ears even now and most are lacking.

 

I kissed and licked her. I marked her as mine and invited her to do the same to me. The little minx gave me a huge black mark just above my collarbone and tittered as if she had done something mischievous. “Lay down, naughty one.” I laughed, and she did. Licking her lips in an inviting manner, she pulled me down onto her. We kissed and I worked my way down to her nipples and sucked them hard. Threading her fingers through my hair, she pulled it hard as she could. Disregarding the pain of having my hair pulled I listened to her telling me that what I was doing felt good. I kissed further down until I reached her rosebud. A lick with the length of my tongue had her gasp with pleasure. Feeling adventurous, I tried to find her secret entrance of delights with my finger and got a bit lost. Using my finger to keep her in her state of steadily mounting bliss, I quickly looked at the book I was given earlier and found the chapter on sex.

 

“What are you doing?” Alatáriël asked, straining her head up to look.

 

“I am trying to give you the most explosive orgasm of your life, sweet one.” I smiled and set to with renewed confidence; I now knew where to aim for. My fingers probed gently because I did not want to hurt her. She was a virgin, according to the diagram in the book, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I had a fleeting thought of her ada offering to help her out there too. My tongue licked with renewed vigour and she moaned louder and louder until her back arched and she cried out the name of her maid.

 

 “What the fuck?” I asked as I looked up from between her legs. “I am right to get rid of her, I think. How dare you call out her name.”

 

“I am sorry.” Alatáriël started to cry. “I always cry out her name when I have nightmares or when I am upset.”

 

“How do you think I feel now you have said that? Am I your nightmare or am I merely upsetting you?” I felt like slapping her face. I seethed with rage and started to get dressed. It would be a simple matter to tell Ereinion what had happened and demand he annul the marriage.

 

“Where are you going?” she screamed as I put my boots on.

 

“Anywhere but here,” I shouted back.

 

“How can you be so cruel? Why do you delight in humiliating me?” She started to cry and was rather loud about it. “I am sorry I did not call your name, but this is so new for me. Am I to be judged for one mistake when you have done nothing but be awful to me?” She sobbed buckets and the bed was getting wet.

 

“How am I cruel?” I shouted.

 

“It is not enough that I am losing my family and my home, but I am to lose my maid because you are jealous of something she was forced to do. She was my only friend and you do not like me at all.” She cried some more.

 

“How can you say that I do not like you? You know nothing about me.” I had stopped dressing but was not undressing either.

 

“You are too ready to leave, that is why.” She howled this at me and buried her head in the covers. “I cannot go back home.”

 

“Why not? You will find another prince I am sure. One who will overlook your calling out of your maid’s name and be sufficiently overawed by your boorish ada and your disdainful snob of a nana.” I wondered if I had gone too far.

 

She looked at me and said in a little voice. “I cannot go back. I cannot bear being in the same place as my ada. When I was told that I was to go to the Greenwood, I rejoiced because I would never have to see him again.”

 

She was right. She could not go back and if I were any sort of ellon, I would not demand it of her. It was not only about me, it was about her as well.

 

“I am sorry.” I felt defeated. “I did not mean what I said about your parents. I spoke in the heat of the moment because I was angry, but I meant what I said concerning your maid.”

 

“I know exactly what my parents are, but please do not say anything about my nana. My ada is abusive to her as well and now she will have no one to confide in or to fight her corner. I wish she could come with us but my ada would never agree.” She said this as though I would have agreed; how little she knew me. A wife and a nana-in-law together? Absolutely not.

 

“We will have to send an ambassador to your ada’s court. He can report back and keep her safe if need be.” I held her in my arms and stroked her pretty little ears.

 

“You are so clever, Oropher. I think you must be the most wonderful elf alive.” She certainly knew how to charm an elf and I reflected that if I were not careful she would be declaring undying love for me before long.

 

They I noticed that she was crying; it was so soft that it was almost private and so I asked the question she knew I would ask.

 

****************

****

Elrond walked into the room unannounced. “I hope you have been sleeping and not writing in your journal.”

 

“I cannot sleep.” I replied. He motioned for me to give the journal and quill to him, which I did, and he put it on the bedside table.

 

“Would you like something to help you sleep?” Elrond was already setting the herbs in the measuring scale, so the question was rhetorical rather than actual, but I nodded that I did anyway. Whilst the tea was brewing, he did all sorts of healer things like feeling my belly and asking if it hurt. He looked at my eyes, and asked me to poke my tongue out. “Do you remember that I said you would not be able to have any more children?”

 

I nodded and smiled, happy in the knowledge that I would never have to go through this again.

 

“Well I have good news. We were able to save that part of you and, if you want to, you can have another baby, though I would leave it at least a couple of years if I was you.” His smile quickly changed. “Why are you crying?”

 

_Because Elrond, you half-witted idiot you have just stamped underfoot all my hopes and illusions for the future and knowing Círdan he will demand another child. I am so furious with you._ I did not say this though. He thought he had acted for the best and no one should be judged lacking for doing so.

 

“I do not want anymore elflings.” I took the handkerchief he offered and wiped my eyes, embarrassed that my elleth-type emotions had sprung forth so readily. “I was so happy when you said I would not be able to have any more babies. I cannot bear the thought of this happening again.” I had not shed a tear through all of this, as I am an ellon and we do not allow our elleth type feelings to show unless we are alone and in private. All elves have a breaking point though.

 

“I am so sorry, Ereolas.” Elrond sat beside me and took my hand as I sobbed. “I did not realise and Círdan said to me that you would both like another elfling. We can sort this out and no one need be any the wiser. Here is what we will do…”

 

Elrond’s solution was to remove everything next time I was delivered of a child. He did not seem to grasp that I needed a more forthcoming and acceptable solution and he thought that the herb blend he made to stop me conceiving was an ideal solution. Sometimes I think he is a half way to being an idiot, and he was wearing his wife’s pink nightdress under his dressing gown.

 

The tea tasted of lavender, which was unexpected. I began to feel relaxed but not terribly sleepy. Elrond smiled at me. “I do not expect you to sleep but you should be relaxed for when Círdan comes to see you later on.” He lifted my head, turned my pillow over and fluffed it. “Cireolas has been rather fractious today; he misses you.”

 

Círdan, as if on cue, arrived with Cireolas in his arms. My little baby was crying and so Muffy, my pet name for my husband, put him beside me so that we could see one another. My little baby stopped crying and I gave him some body temperature milk, which pleased him no end. I was surprised that I could still feed him but Elrond told me that it takes a while for breast milk to completely dry up.

 

Muffy snuggled up behind me and we made the perfect picture as he held me in one arm and stroked our baby’s cheek with his forefinger. Erestor and Legolas came into the room to kiss me goodnight and there were declarations of delight that I was looking so well. By this time, I really was tired so they did not stay long; however, I was heartened by their positive reaction and felt more optimistic about my outcome.

 

Cireolas is fast asleep in a cot by my bed and Círdan has just said, “For Valar’s sake, I am not competing with a quill and journal, put the bloody thing down.” He is gently sucking my hardness, so I suppose I had better do as I am told.

 

 


	4. Alatáriël Touches my Heart, I Become the New King of The Greenwood, What happened to Mel?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three chapters in one! Ereolas tells more of his reminiscences from his first life when he was King Oropher.

  
  


**Part 10 – Alatáriël Touches my Heart** ****

 

“It was not a good idea to have sex last night, Ereolas.” Elrond sounded tired. “Have you thought of all the damage you could have done to your insides? They have not healed yet.”

 

“It was oral only.” I hoped he would accept the excuse. “Anyway how did you know?”

 

“I am a healer. I know everything and it does not matter if it was oral only, there will still be damage.” He pulled the covers back, took my dressings off, and felt my belly with his hands. I grimaced, even though I tried not to express myself at all. “See, that did not hurt you yesterday. You have both been rather silly.”

 

“I am sorry. I did not realise. We should have checked with you first.” I did not mean a word of it but wanted to avoid the argument.

 

Elrond shook his head and walked over to the table where he started to prepare the herbs for my morning nasty drink. I ignored him as I opened my journal and took up my quill.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

I needed to ask my new wife what her ada had done to her that was so terrible. Warning bells rang in my brain and I suspected the worst. She lay still in my arms as I held her close. “What has he done to you sweet one? What has he done that is so bad that you cannot bear him?” She sobbed softly and I wiped her tears away with my thumb. “Is it worse than the kissing he forced you to do?” Apart from being disgusted that Coamenel’s filthy paws had been anywhere near my wife, with innocent motive or not, I was intrigued.

 

Alatáriël hurriedly nodded. “Please do not hate me. Please do not leave me. I cannot go back with them.”

 

She touched my heart and I made soothing noises and spoke softly to her, giving reassurances that that I would stay and try to work out an understanding between us. She then told me what her ada had done that was so awful, and it was terrible indeed. I wanted to comfort her but no matter what I said she remained uncertain and tearful, so I decided to change tack and amuse her by making shadow puppets with my hands in the candle light and asking her to guess what they were. She did some too and I showed her how to make a rabbit shape. Then we played ‘guess the song’ where one sings the first line of a song and the other has to guess it or supply a second line. We took her pendant and held it against the candlelight creating rainbows that shifted across the ceiling. After that, we played the game where one writes the first sentence of a story and folds the paper over, leaving just a few words visible, and the other has to carry the story on with another sentence. When the paper runs out, the whole lot is read aloud and often it is very funny indeed. Unless one plays it with Elrond. Most odd; such things flying around in his head, very strange indeed. We eventually snuggled up together and I held her in my arms that night. She clung to me, hardly daring to sleep at all; she was still frightened that I would leave.

 

The next morning we bathed and I gave her the fiftieth begetting day present that I had forgotten to present to her when she first arrived. I put a choker of sparkling diamonds, set in a filigree of mithril, around her neck. Each diamond was an oval of one and a half inches high and an inch wide, set in a row, and held by a clasp set with our intertwined initials. She was most impressed; as well she should be, and stood before the mirror with nothing on, posing as if her life depended on it. If nothing else, it made me grin. I dried off as she pouted and smiled alternately at the mirror. “Enough of this,” I said from behind her. I slung her over my shoulder and carried her giggling to the bed.

 

Once again I brought her to orgasm with my tongue; this time she cried out and said no name at all. I could live with that. Lining myself up with her entrance, I pushed home. She cried out as I broke her and I asked her if I should stop. She was intact, but that was the only part of her that was a virgin. I withdrew and brought myself nearly to orgasm with my hand before plunging back inside her to come. There was a surprising amount of blood on the sheets. The book said there would be a small amount if any, but there was much more. I hid the book away, lest Alatáriël should see it and make fun of me, and put a dressing gown on. After collecting a soft towel from the bathroom, I gently cleaned away her blood, although I suspect she wished her maid could do this, and then I gave her a dressing gown to wear. After ringing for a servant to bring us breakfast, I made sure she had an extremely fluffy soft cushion to sit on. See how considerate a husband I was?

 

We spent the rest of the morning on the balcony drinking sherbet. Alatáriël lay in my arms and told me about her life. I told her about the Greenwood and my life as an elfling there. We took lunch in our rooms as well and did not appear until the evening. Many jokes were made at our expense about how long we had spent hidden away. My father was proud of me. He slapped me on the back and told me that I took after him when it came to satisfying an elleth. I ignored him. He knew not of what he talked about and I did not care to tell him. My nana greeted us both and said that she was so glad that she now had an iell as well as a ion. I groaned; parents can be so embarrassing.

 

 

Alatáriël’s parents were next to greet us. It was all I could do to be polite and not embarrass my new wife. I was perfectly polite and friendly when talking to her nana, indeed I could never be critical of her, and interacted as little as possible with her incestuous bastard ada. At one point he sidled up to my wife, like the worm he was, and asked if I was good in bed. “You will not ask my wife such questions,” I said firmly and guided her away. She looked worried, but I reassured her that I was her husband and simply would not stand for any impropriety towards her no matter from what direction it came.

 

 “He knows now who is boss.” I told her. She smiled and linked her arm through mine. Looking across the room, I saw Ereinion; he raised his wine glass to me and I licked my lips and grinned. He mouthed that I was a naughty boy and I raised my glass in agreement. Happily, Alatáriël did not see him; she was too busy waving her nana over to join us.

 

Alatáriël’s nana, Princess Nenuial, admired the diamond choker and remarked on how beautiful it was. “Oropher gave it to me. He also gave me a much larger diamond pendant as a wedding present, which we play with in bed,” my wife beamed innocently. “You should see it. It is cut so perfect that it reflects rainbows on the ceiling.” Her nana was astonished at the size of the diamonds in the choker and later I could see her talking animatedly to my nana about it. She was most impressed, and when Coamenel started boasting about the gold in his principality, she nudged him sharply in the ribs and told him not to make a fool of himself.

 

We had dinner and socialised some more and then went back to our room. We fell asleep, both of us under the covers with no clothes on. I did not love Alatáriël and she did not love me, but it was the next best thing, and for many years we were good companions and sexual partners. We lived a harmonious life but, in the end, our relationship foundered because we were unable to love each other. Alatáriël had a long running and extremely discreet affair with her personal maid; however, she never denied me her attentions even though I was not first in her affections. One of my advisors informed me of her infidelity and I decided to say nothing, because love is where you find it. Who was I to deny her the love of her true soul mate?

 

It is often recorded, by Erestor, the former chronicler of gossip masquerading as history, that I was unfaithful first, but that is far from the truth. It does not matter anymore; however, when I saw Círdan the connection was there and I knew that it was right for me to love him. I felt no guilt because my wife had already crossed the boundaries of infidelity long before, and that is what I intended also. I was not as discreet as Alatáriël, so it was presumed by those who suspected that I took a lover first. I can live with that; but what I still do not understand is why she went absolutely bonkers when she caught Círdan and me in bed together. I guess that I will never understand why affairs of the heart are all right for some but not for others. Thranduil’s birth sounded the final death knell for our relationship. All of this would be many hundreds of years in the future. Indeed, until I met Círdan I remained faithful and tried to be a good husband.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

I am able to sit up a bit more and it has given me a headache. Apart from that, I am feeling all right. I am still weak but rapidly gaining in strength. A few days ago I could not lift the cup of herbal tea but I can now. Soon I will be able to pick Cireolas up again and cuddle him. I have just fed him by lying on my side and guiding the nipple into his mouth. One of the healers stays with me so that he does not drop off the bed; however, they are very discreet and do not watch.

 

It is most strange but I have not seen Náessë since my arrival in Imladris. Perhaps one of the eagles dropped her into a ravine on the flight over. One can only hope!

 

 

**Part 11 – I Become the New King of The Greenwood**

 

I spent a happy afternoon and evening in the sunroom, which is filled with plants and has a glass roof and walls. There are blinds for when Anor’s beams are too strong, but this morning it was pleasantly warm. I lay in Muffy’s arms and we played with Cireolas, who is fascinated with his feet and fingers.  According to Círdan, only Erestor and Legolas travelled across on the eagles. Mel and Glorfindel are making their way back overland with Galadriel, Celeborn, Orophin and Haldir. That should be fun for Glorfindel. I expect that belt of his will be worn through before they are even half way here if Mel continues with his naughtiness.

 

Erestor and Legolas took Cireolas to watch the fireflies dancing over the river at dusk. I assured them that he was not much of a conversationalist at the moment, but they were not put off at all. Legolas said that it was important that Muffy and I have a period of quality time together and that when the others converge on Imladris I will be glad of having had some time with the one I love the most. I feel so comfortable with Muffy, so at peace. We do not even have to talk, simply being close is enough.

 

Muffy stroked my hair whilst I lay with my head on his chest. “You are so beautiful, meleth. I look forward to loving you again.” It was softly said and made me smile. It is good to know when one feels ill and below par, that one is still attractive to the one they love.

 

Unfortunately, Elrond heard and raised an eyebrow, a hackneyed gesture which I ignored, and he told Círdan to hold off until I was fully recovered. He gave me a cup of nasty tea and stood there until it was finished before walking off.

 

“What is up with him?” Muffy asked.

 

I shrugged. I did not care and was beginning to feel sleepy again. Círdan picked me up in his arms and carried me to the bed where I slept until the morning, although I did wake a couple of times to turn over.

 

It is most strange but during the night I could have sworn I heard the same flapping of the eagle’s wings that I heard in Mithlond. For a moment, I thought that the others must have arrived and then dismissed the thought as sleep overtook me once again.

 

I awoke in the early hours and all was still in the house. My journal was just out of reach, so I could not write anything. I amused myself by staring at the ceiling, making imaginary triangles by joining up the imperfections in the plasterwork. Listening carefully, I could just about hear muffled voices from the next room, the one that I had been taken into when very ill. No doubt, someone in there needed the healers help more than me, and I wondered who they might be.

 

Elrond walked out of the room and shut the door behind him; he was covered in blood splashes. I watched at he went into another room and wondered what he was up to. He came out in his normal robes and walked over to me; his face seemed grim.

 

“You do not look too good.” Elrond said accusingly. “Are you in any pain?”

 

“None at all,” I lied. I knew I would get another lecture on the idiocy of having oral sex whilst recovering if I admitted that I did not feel so good this morning. “I feel fine.” I wanted to ask about the events of the night but did not think it wise; he seemed to be in such a foul mood.

 

Elrond knew I was lying. He walked over to the preparation table and measured out the herbs for my morning dose of nasty tea. While it was brewing, he sat beside me. “I would appreciate it if you did not treat me as a fool. I know you are in pain and I can see it in your face.”

 

My throat felt as though it was closing up and I had to hold myself. My elleth type feelings were fighting for dominance and I was determined not to let them surface. “I am sorry. We did not think it would cause any harm. I just did not want any, ‘I told you so’ lectures.”

 

 “I realise that you would not have done it, if you had known it would cause harm.” Elrond walked over to the pot and poured out a cup of tea. “Do not lie to me again. I have gone to extraordinary lengths to save your life; indeed, we all have. You are putting it all at risk by not being honest with me and more importantly by not being honest to yourself.” He spoke in a quiet angry voice; if he had shouted it would have been more bearable.

 

“I know.” I said in a little voice and then the first tiny traitorous tear slid from my eye and landed on my cheek. “I am sorry.” I would rather be impaled upon a million spikes than let anyone see me cry but it seems I had no choice in the matter. My elleth type feelings spring to the surface at the slightest provocation, just lately, even though I have forbidden them to surface at all.

 

Elrond put his arm around me and handed me the cup of tea. I was so upset that my hand shook slightly and so he steadied it with his hand over mine. “I have put extra herbs in your tea to help with your depression. I thought you would feel better after the infection was cleaned away but it seems I was wrong.” A healer who admits he is wrong, now there is a rare bird indeed!  I am miserable, sarcastic and self-destructive; I cannot continue like this. I do not remember what it feels like to be well. It is as though this is never ending and has gone on forever. If this is my life, I do not want it.

 

I sipped at the tea, which tasted slightly different. “I know I am depressed. I was feeling slightly happier but that is gone now…” I started to cry. Really big loud sobs and Elrond took the tea from me and held me close.

 

 “Ereolas, you do not have to have any more elflings. I will take that part away from you. Círdan will be told that the infection is back and you have internal inflammation which needs to be treated as quickly as possible, both of which are true.” I sighed heavily in relief and drank some more of the tea that he offered. “Now, I am going to tell Círdan what has happened and I want you to go back to sleep.”

 

“Can, I write a little bit of my journal instead?” I looked pathetic and hopeful. “I promise to go to sleep straight after.” He handed the journal and quill to me, telling me at the same time that I would be all right and then he left the room. So here we go; back to happier times, if they can be called as such in light of the sudden bereavement that meant I returned home as King of The Greenwood.

 

Amid the happiness of my wedding celebrations there was a sudden tragedy that changed my life forever. My parents went on an excursion to some nearby lakes, for a private picnic, and a troll kicked their carriage and horses into a deep lake, where they drowned. The troll stamped on the defending warriors accompanying the coach and killed all of them. Ereinion’s healers assured me that my parents would have felt nothing.

 

When the carriage was pulled from the water my parents were in each other’s arms, as if asleep. The healers said that to die in such a way meant that they were already unconscious, knocked out by the impact of the troll kicking the carriage. There were no signs of a struggle to escape and the doors opened freely; if they had been conscious they could have swam to safety. I was grief stricken. My life was radically changed. That day I became the new King of the Greenwood. I did not have the chance to say goodbye because my parents left at dawn while we slept; apparently, they wanted to make a long day of it.

 

Alatáriël’s ada took full advantage of my grief. As soon as the death of my parents was announced he said that I was too young to rule effectively by myself and that he would install his courtiers in my palace to advise me. He used the bullyboy tactics that probably secured his seizing of power in his own state. He was a ruthless, greedy and incestuous bastard and I hated him. My wife squeezed my hand in panic and I was outraged. “You will not presume to advise the King and Queen of The Greenwood. You are merely a prince, whereas I am a king and have trained all my life to assume rule if necessary.” Ereinion was standing nearby, a little bit behind Coamenel. He stood with his hand in the pocket of one of his guards, who had a happy smile on his face. Ereinion tittered and winked at me.

 

“How dare you, you insolent young pup.” Coamenel’s face went purple with rage and he took a swing at me. I punched him once and he fell on the floor unconscious.

 

Princess Nenuial sighed with irritation. “I am so sorry. I told him not to try and take over and he would not listen.” She was horribly embarrassed and so I told her that a lady would never approve of anything so underhand, adding that she was not to worry about it because I knew she had nothing to do with his behaviour.

 

Ereinion appeared by my side as Coamenel stood up, rubbing his jaw; I thought I was going to get a lecture on court etiquette. “Coamenel, King Oropher is second in line to be High King of all the Elves. Do you really think it is a good idea to punch someone who can have you executed if he so wishes?”

 

“No he can’t!” My outraged ada-in-law blustered.

 

“Yes he can. He outranks you and so does his wife. Either of them can order your execution for assaulting The King of The Greenwood.” Ereinion grinned then walked off.

 

“I think I like him.” Alatáriël whispered to me with shining eyes full of admiration. Not as much as I do, I thought.

 

 Coamenel stood wide-eyed and probably wondering what he could do to get away quickly. We settled the matter for him. Nenuial and my wife linked their arms through mine and we walked away, leaving him alone. “Shall we go to tea, my ladies?” I asked; they giggled and agreed immediately.

 

We left the next day so that I could take my parents home to The Greenwood. We arrived home to a house in mourning. The forest felt the death of the king and queen and the trees told the elves. I was crowned King and my wife was crowned Queen. I cannot visit their grave now because it is deep in the forest and within the darkness that is Mirkwood. We moved to the caves, at the top end of the Greenwood, when we could no longer hold our lands. It is a fancy of mine that the trees remember the first King and Queen of The Greenwood and that they still surround their ornate tomb, keeping them safe as they were planted to do so. My parents lie in a small glade surrounded by the mellyrn from Lothlórien that my mother loved so much. I hope that the trees protect them from harm and allow them to rest undisturbed and in peace, even though their fëa dance elsewhere. They were my ada and nana, and, even though we did not always agree, we loved one another and I miss them still.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Muffy has just left and he is grief stricken. He kept apologising and blamed himself for the infection coming back. “If only I had not been so stupid. I did not know I would hurt you,” he said. “Can you ever forgive me?”

 

“Meleth, there is nothing to forgive. We are both at fault and you know we are blessed even to have one elfling. In the natural order of things, we would not have even that. Let us take what we have and be grateful.” I was so magnanimous; I could be, knowing that shortly my nightmare would be over. I lay in his arms and allowed myself to fantasise about when we could go back to Mithlond and be a loving couple again.

 

“You are so brave, meleth.” Muffy looked as if he was fighting to keep his elleth type feelings at bay.

 

“Adverse circumstances make us brave, my only one. I would say I am no braver than anyone else ordinarily.” I smiled at him and he kissed me so softly it felt as if a feather had tickled my lips.

 

We talked some more while Cireolas lay in between us feeding from me. I became tired and Círdan scooped our ion up in his arms and kissed me again. “I will let you sleep now, meleth. Remember, I love you and we will come through this. I will devote the whole of my life to making sure you are all right.”

 

“I love you too sweet, Muffy.” I smiled and closed my eyes as he rubbed my back. He did not leave until he was sure I was asleep.

 

I seem to be sleeping a lot more today than I did yesterday and wonder if I am being deliberately sedated. Something is afoot and I wonder what it is. Consider this: my bed has been moved to another room so that I cannot see what is going on in the main area and even when I awake I am so muzzy headed that I cannot fully take in anything I see. It is most odd and I am acutely aware that I have probably written a load of nonsensical drivel.

 

It is most intriguing. I awoke for a few minutes and I think Glorfindel and Elrond walked past the open door of my room. Oddly enough, I am sure that I can hear Legolas and Erestor talking quietly somewhere in the background. I wonder what it means. I am too sleepy to do anything but scribble this titbit down in my journal. I am so tired.

 

 

**Part 12 – What happened to Mel?**

I did hear eagle wings overnight and I did see Glorfindel! A large troop of orcs attacked the travelling party of elves on their way from Mithlond. Mel’s sternum is broken and Haldir is seriously injured all over his body and has lost a lot of blood. Glorfindel says that Mel’s armour saved him and, apart from the broken sternum, he has no other injury, although breathing will be painful for a while. He also said that Celeborn bonded with Haldir, before he lost consciousness, so that he might live, but it is not looking good for him at all. Erestor and Legolas will not leave Mel’s bedside. They hold one of his hands, while Glorfindel holds the other; each are willing him to wake up so that they know he is getting better. It is a real worry because Elrond suspects that the axe blade that hit Mel’s chest was poisoned. He knows this for a fact with the blades that cut Haldir.

 

Celebrían sat with me for a while and said that she and Merilnis had fought side by side, dispatching six orcs between them. When I was a small elfling, I saw Merilnis hack an orc to death and she derived an almost carnal pleasure from it. Galadriel was so fearsome that the orcs went down like nine pins when she rampaged through their line and a couple ran away and hid behind trees. Glorfindel kept Mel close by, but it was by sheer bad luck that he was hit. The orc fighting Thranduil threw his axe just before his head was hacked off and it hit Mel from about fifteen foot away. Glorfindel said that if the orc fighting Mel had not died so quickly it would have hit him instead. Stupid orc! Celeborn, Haldir and Orophin fought together. Somehow, Haldir became separated from them and surrounded by six orcs. Thranduil dispatched many orcs, during the battle, including some of those attacking Haldir. He jokingly said that he reflected his natural glow off his sword and blinded the orcs with it, and then he stabbed them. I am so proud of my ion.

 

I am worried about Haldir. He is one of the nicest elves I know. He made me a bow when I was a tiny elfling, in this life not the Oropher one. I have prayed to the Valar that Námo does not visit Imladris and that all are healed in body and fëa.

 

Elrond looks tired, he has told Celebrían that he wants to check her out; she replied that she is all right, but he was most insistent. Apparently, he had planned to stop me from having any more elflings today and he was sorry but it was more important to keep the room free in case Haldir needs it again. I replied that I would not expect him to do anything for a while yet, at least not until everyone is safe. My needs are not as great as theirs are and the healing rooms are primarily for injured elves; they have to come first.

 

Círdan has brought our sleeping ion into the room and laid him beside me. He left shortly after to offer some help. Muffy has a rudimentary knowledge of treating cuts and wounds, as all warriors do, and he has been rather helpful, according to Grand Ada Thranduil who let him stitch a moderate wound on his bum, which was caused when Merilnis twirled her sword in victory and it slipped out of her grasp. At least there is no risk of the blade being poisoned. Cireolas smells sweet and milky and he is smiling in his sleep. While my beautiful little ion is in dreamland, I will take the opportunity to write another entry in my journal.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

No sooner had I been crowned king, than my cousin pronounced that I was too young to rule, even though Ihad been trained since birth for the role. He was not my real cousin because my parents awoke at Cuiviénen and had no real family; however, my ada had adopted his ada as his own brother just in case our line abruptly ended. The upstart considered that he should be the rightful king because he was five hundred years older than me. I sat on my throne in the vast Hall of Many Meetings and asked him if he had the support of all the elves of the realm; from the collective murmuring it seemed that he did. “We will meet in one hour.” I said to him and walked out of the hall, telling my advisors and Alatáriël not to follow.

 

I went to my bedroom and opened the balcony door. Looking over the balustrade and up to the sky, I sang the song of supplication that the new king sings to honour the Valar for giving him the right to rule. I swore obedience to Manwë and asked that my power be absolute among my people and without question, so that his desire that I should rule would not be challenged, especially when it was due to how old I was. I asked that I be just and wise and brave and courageous in ruling my kingdom and that I honour the very principles of the life among the first-born. Acknowledging that I ruled by the Valar’s grace alone, I bowed my head and waited for their sign. The sky darkened and Elbereth’s veil descended to where I stood and danced around my being, leaving me with a glow that I have passed onto my ionen Thranduil and Cireolas. Happily it can be turned down to almost non-existent, but when I went back to my coronation my glow shone as intensely as Anor. I walked to my throne and the elves shielded their eyes. All elves, except my cousin, bowed as low as they could. I held my hand up for him to come closer, so that I could tell him the decision of the Valar. As I did, a bright shaft of light left my hand and pierced his heart, killing him instantly. I grieved because he was my cousin and, in spite of his challenge, I loved him. I did not know he would die, but I learned much later when I was in the Halls that his death was due to his attempted usurping of my position, which was deemed to be a challenge to the Valar. I was the vessel for his death, but it was not my doing at all. That made it slightly easier.

 

After that, my word was never questioned and it was joked that even if I were covered in mud and with no clothes on, that elves would know I was a king because of my bearing. Alatáriël was fascinated and asked if she could glow too. I told her that if she was meant to glow then she would and if she was not meant to then she would not. She was not happy at this and refused me sex that night. I did not care; I could glow and she could not. During the night, I played a game called, ‘Now it is light and now it is dark.’ She was not amused.

 

In the morning, I awoke with the most outrageous hard-on that any elf, alive or dead, has ever had in his life. I snuggled up behind Alatáriël and told her that if she did not give me sex instantly that I would set up a harem and forever sleep with concubines. She laughed at me and so I told her that I would tie her to the bed, all the while kissing her neck and working a teasing finger over her rosebud. She giggled and refused me again.

 

“I am going to tell the whole of the hall at breakfast that you would not give me sex.” I said, and she replied that I would not dare. All the time I was manoeuvring her onto her front so I could lay on top of her. “You are my prisoner now, you naughty little vixen.”

 

She tried to move and could not. “You are so heavy, sweet husband of mine. I hope you do not crush me to death because you have been stuffing your face with sweets. I do not know how long I can withstand the heaviness of one who weighs more than an oliphaunt.”

 

I merely snickered at her insult. Moving away from her, just a tad, I reached down and quickly pulled her legs apart and settled in between them. “Put your face in the pillow, meleth, so that I can imagine you are an ellon and I can give it to you up the arse.”

 

“WHAT?” she yelled and tried to reach behind to slap me. “HOW DARE YOU.”

 

She was really struggling hard by now and so I flipped her over, pulled her legs apart and lay on top of her, kissing her softly. “I was merely joking, my sweetest one,” I said to her, and then kissed her again to stop her from answering. “Your own face is acceptable. It will do.”

 

She pulled my hair and brought her legs up to kick my back. “Get off me,” she screeched before slapping me across the face.

 

Her eyes widened because she thought she might have gone too far. “Alatáriël you have really turned me on now. You are in for the fucking of your life.” I pushed home before she could argue and she gasped with the suddenness of it.

 

Every time she tried to say anything I kissed her mouth and eventually she stopped fighting and began to relax. I took her to heights she never thought possible; more to the point, neither did I know they were possible either. She knew then that I was an exceptional lover and she was a very lucky elleth indeed, but when I told her this she threw a book off my head and said that no one likes a smug git.

 

The book was her journal.

 

I riffled the pages of the book and looked at her grinning. “What is in this book, meleth? Anything about how wonderful I am?” I thought she would be most upset and try to chase me around our rooms to get it back, which, knowing me, would lead to more sex.

 

“Look at it if you like. It is completely empty. I am not the greatest journal writer; it seems a pointless exercise to me.” She sat looking smug and watched as I put the book back. Only later did it occur to me that she might have called my bluff.

 

It was time to nip the bickering in the bud before it became a full-blown argument. “Let us both go and bathe, my sweet little cherry.”

 

I should have paid attention to the deceptively sweet and agreeably amenable smile. The bath was run and while I had my hand in the water, to make sure it was not too hot, she crept up behind me and pushed me in. I fell in and cracked my head off the other side as I stumbled on the slippery bath floor when trying to stand up. In the background, I could hear her cackling with laughter. Through her tears of happy and joyful amusement she said that she was sorry and had not meant me for me to be hurt. Lying bitch! She was getting me back for making her have multiple orgasms against her will.

 

“I think we are even now,” I replied mustering all my dignity. “Get in the bath and we will say no more about it.”

 

“Absolutely not! You will do something horrid to get me back.” She flounced off and put her clothes on in the other room, still laughing as loudly as she could.

 

I was not too bothered. My head was throbbing and bathing alone meant that I did not have to listen to her inane chatter about not being able to glow and how unfair it all was. She seemed to forget that she was the most privileged elleth on Middle-earth, simply by being Queen of The Greenwood; that she also was married to me was the icing on her cake. Anyway, I bathed and dressed and we went to breakfast, greeting counsellors, advisors and various others as though nothing had happened.

 

Alatáriël was as queenly as ever and graciously greeted all who spoke to her. I held her chair out for her and pushed it back in as she sat. I was sorely tempted to leave it out so that she would fall flat on her arse. I sat beside her and ordered my breakfast. “What are you going to have, my delightful flower?” I asked sweetly, as a caring and considerate husband should be seen to be doing.

 

“I am going to have porridge with honey and blueberries and I suggest you have the same.” She smiled in her infuriatingly superior way, so I ordered beans in tomato sauce on triangles of freshly buttered toast. She maintained her smile and kicked my shin hard under the table.

 

I leaned closer and said in a low voice. “I suggest we stop this right now, you scruffy, unwashed trollop, before we both lose face among our courtiers. I am not averse to slapping you right now and my head is still throbbing; each throb says slap the bitch.” I squeezed her hand gently and kissed her cheek. Everyone at the table thought how in love the king must be with his queen. Damn fools!

 

“Are you worried about losing face?” she whispered teasingly.

 

“Not at all sweet one.” I replied with a malevolent smirk. She gave me a smile that was for all around, but not for me. “But you should be. I promise it will be much more embarrassing for you.”

 

“Then I suppose we have to call a truce in our game of one-upmanship. I am truly sorry for you hurting your head though; it was not meant. Would you like me to kiss it better?” She gave me a small kiss on the cheek, which brought delighted smiles from everyone at the table.

 

 “Not now. You will have to do it later. I have a council meeting in half an hour and you have a sewing circle session I think?” I did not know and guessed, that as sewing is an elleth type activity she might be indulging in it.

 

“I am learning how to throw knives accurately. Morwen is teaching me, and then she is going to show me the principles of sparring with a light sword.” My wife beamed. “It means I will have a better aim, my only one.”

 

“Then you will be like me, my sweet little strawberry. My aim is accurate and true and I am fully experienced in the delights of sparing.” I ran a finger softly down her spine making her shudder.

 

I turned to my breakfast and ate. Leaving her to wonder what delights I had planned for the afternoon.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

My little ion woke up and wanted to feed. I picked him up and held him in my arms so he could suckle from me and enjoy his body temperature milk drink. He is so beautiful that I cannot stop looking at him and he smells divine. His little baby smell is sweet and milky, probably because he is still feeding off me and will for some time I expect.

 

I had to stop for a while. Cireolas did a poo and a wee and I cleaned him with the stuff the healer brought me. Now it is playtime. I am happy because today is the first day I have been able to hold him properly. I still do not want anymore elflings though.

 

Cireolas is rather intrigued by the quill and keeps trying to grab it, so I put it in his hand and held it as we wrote his name. Círdan will be so proud of him and I cannot wait to show him. Now we are playing boo, or rather I say boo and he laughs. He is so sweet and clever and easily the most beautiful baby on Arda. It has occurred to me that I feel quite a bit better today and maybe that is because I am improving and pondering less on my condition, thinking more about what is happening with Mel and Haldir.

 

I cannot see anything from this room and it is most frustrating. No one has thought to come in and give me an update and the healers say there is no change, which I think is healer speak for, ‘do not concern yourself.’ I wish I could get out of bed and visit Mel and Haldir, but I suppose I would only get in the way.

 

I will just have to wait.

 

 

 


	5. Death to the Usurpers, Poo Shoes, The Argument

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ereolas writes more of his journal.

**Death to the usurpers!**  
  
  
Mel is still sleeping and Haldir remains at the entrance to Námo’s Halls. Erestor came to see me for a flying visit and apologised for neglecting me. Galadriel is inconsolable, and is apparently in the middle of a marathon crying fit on Celebrían’s shoulder, because Celeborn has asked her for a divorce. She does not like him anyway, and all he does is embarrass her. Apparently, she is upset because her status as a good wife will be questioned and discussed. Gossip happens about everyone and she is not exempt. I wonder why she cares so much.  
  
Celeborn announced about two hundred years ago, at my suggestion, that he was a dog after hitting his head in an accident. He has carried on the deception ever since. It was very effective, until earlier on today when he said that he had never believed that he was of the canine persuasion, but going out for his midnight walkies was the only way he could get to see Haldir. He continues to hold Haldir’s hand and so does Orophin who, according to Erestor, is refusing to listen to any talk about possible funeral arrangements from Elrond, who says that he does not expect Haldir to survive the night.  
  
I am laying here and it is dark and silent. Ithil’s light shines through the window and Círdan is spooning me from behind. Cireolas is in his small cot by my side of the bed. He is hugging his limited edition Fëanor action doll, which Celebrian gave to him. The hair can be arranged in a number of styles and its joints have wire running through them, so it is fully poseable. Círdan looked down the front of the doll’s leggings and found out that it was a eunuch. He thought this might be the reason for its angry expression.  
  
I cannot sleep because I am waiting. May the noises that I expect to hear not happen tonight or ever. I might as well write down some more of my reminiscences of when I was Oropher. I do not want to write about Alatáriël because she has spent quite a few entries in my writings and I am tired of her; however, I need to explain what happened in the end.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Queen Crabbyarse, because that is how I thought of her towards the end, was having a very circumspect affair with her maid lover. I knew about the affair but, as I have explained previously, I did nothing about it because the maid was her soul mate. Our sex had dried up. I was unable to take a lover as there was no one I particularly wanted. With court intrigues and gossip it would have been very dangerous for anyone to be seen as a favourite anyway. I spent my time being a good and just king and endearing myself to my subjects, nearly wearing my right hand out in the process.   
  
My virtue was seen in sharp contrast with that of my wife’s philandering as the details slowly leaked out. This left the way for me to announce, as a magnanimous gesture, that Queen Crabbyarse was to have her own accommodation within the palace and that we would not be held to spousal bonds anymore. She could have her lover living with her and I would be free to pursue another if I so wanted. It worked out fine, for her anyway.   
  
We spent many years apart and lived separate lives. I had a not so secret affair with Círdan and intended divorcing Crabbyarse. She had other plans though. Not wishing to lose her position of influence, even though she would have kept her title, she pushed her maid out of a high tree. The poor elleth, who let us not forget was her soul mate, hit her head off a branch on the way down and was killed instantly. I felt sorry for old Crabbyarse while she was weeping and clinging to me and I believed at the time it was an accident. In the end too much time had passed for an accusation of murder to be valid and there would have been accusations of a cover up by the time the healers admitted that the death looked suspicious.   
  
The trees themselves whispered about the murder and for months it remained a whisper until it grew louder over time and then became a crescendo whenever I walked in the forest. No one else heard the noise and when I discussed it with the healers, because I thought I was going mad, they told me that the maid’s mouth had smelt of a certain hallucinogenic spice. Furthermore, they said that Alatáriël’s hair was found in her hands where, presumably, she had pulled it out while wildly grabbing at anything to save herself. Lastly, she had injuries not consistent with mere falling. Of course, it was covered up; the healers being too frightened to do anything else kept the notes but did not wish to accuse outright the Queen of the Greenwood. The only way to keep an eye on the murderous bitch was to keep her by my side, or locked in her rooms, and at all times she was guarded and allowed no lovers.  
  
It was now too dangerous for Círdan to visit because Crabbyarse made it quite clear that she had supporters who believed her innocent and would not hesitate to fight her cause. She threatened Círdan’s life and so I informed him by letter that he was not to visit until the situation was sorted. She thought I should not have lovers because she had killed her one and was not allowed any more. How fair is that?  
  
I was becoming the laughing stock of the court. My courtiers sympathised with the bitch because it was widely regarded that the maid's death was an accident, also many of our courtiers had no idea that my harpy wife was having an affair with her. It was time to put all gossip to an end and so I held her down and had sex with her, even though she fought me like a tiger. I left her pregnant and told her that now she had no choice but to make out that she was happy with me; her growing belly would be evidence of that. She threatened to tell everyone that I had raped her and I told her to go ahead and do it. She accused me to the healers and they did not believe her; I was the one with the scratched face, not her, and they asked if she had been the aggressor and not me. There was nothing to suggest she had been anything other than willing, so they told her. Silly Alatáriël, if you accuse a senior healer’s wife of stealing a ring, which was in your own safe all the time, just because she will not sexually indulge you, you can expect him to get his revenge one way or another. I am not proud of what I did but extraordinary times call for extraordinary solutions, even if they are unpalatable.  
  
Over the next few weeks, Alatáriël’s sympathisers were identified. All her mail was opened and resealed. Sometimes false communications were sent to sympathisers to see if a response could be elicited that would prove their alliance to her. I had her watched constantly as she grew with child and she was surrounded by courtiers selected by myself whom I could trust to report back her every move.   
  
The cells below the palace were full and it emerged that there was indeed a plot to seize my kingdom and make her the ruler. I believe she would have killed me; it was certainly indicated as being likely by the prisoners incarcerated in my dungeons. It was with heavy heart that I had the revolutionaries executed. I sought guidance from Manwë, who told me that I was the king and all who opposed me also opposed the Valar. “Vanquish your enemies and you shall have peace,” he told me and added that execution would send a clear message that would ensure compliance.   
  
I made my wife watch as each of her former supporters and confidants were killed, holding her hand so it looked as though we were compatible again. I ordered her to smile all the way through or else I would slit her throat as she delivered our child. She sat with a fixed smile, absolutely terrified, and watched as each elf went to his or her death. One of the elves was a childhood friend of mine, but as Manwë indicated that he was one of those who plotted my downfall I did as I was bid. I admit that I did not sleep that night, nor for many nights after. The guilt weighed heavily upon me, even though I was carrying out the wishes of Lord Manwë and had no choice in the matter. No one should underestimate the extreme anger I felt, especially with the one who carried my child; I hated her most of all. Manwë said that if she had not been pregnant he would have demanded her execution first, simply because her defiance of her king and the wishes of the Valar had led to so many deaths. I am so glad that I was not able to put her in that position.  
  
The families of the executed elves were taken by armed guard to Mithlond, where they sailed. Each family had the value of their possessions in jewels, so they could maintain their lifestyles when they arrived there. They had already lost one dear to them, and also their homes, so I would not seek to increase their distress further. The spouse and children do not always know what their family members are up to, so it was right that they should not suffer too much from what would have been a catastrophic upheaval.  
  
My court diminished by around a third. I had not realised the movement was so serious and sat stony faced by the elleth I now hated; she had taken the joy from my life. “It looks empty in here tonight,” I said, during the midsummer celebration, which was held inside because it was pouring down with rain. Alatáriël sat silent, not daring to say anything in public, and stroked her swollen belly.  
  
Gradually, Alatáriël grew braver. We argued about everything. In particular, she demanded a wet nurse for our baby when it was born. I refused, as that meant another baby would have to endure semi-starvation on a much-reduced diet so that our one could feed. I had read Elrond’s research on the development and growth of elflings born to wet nurses. The paper concluded that they were weaker and of shorter stature, resulting from the nutritional neglect imposed by their nanas just after being born. I cannot afford my warriors to be weaker than the enemy, just because the ellith of my court think it untoward to feed their own offspring. The bitch turned it around and announced to the court that she had refused my offer of a wet nurse because she wanted to ensure the healthy development of all babies in the realm and that I had, at her urging, made wet nursing illegal. She knew I would say nothing, as I practised the courtly etiquette that demanded I not embarrass my wife in front of the court.  
  
I was not to be outdone, however. Sitting on my throne, I smiled, as if agreeable, to the bitch; she looked incredibly smug as though she had won. I rose and announced that my wife felt so strongly about the subject that she was putting a financial plan into place, out of her own resources, to pay every wet nurse an allowance to ensure they would not suffer financially from the ban. I sat down again and kissed her on the cheek. “Touché.” I whispered into her ear as she sat with a fixed smile.  
  
“I hate you and I hope you die horribly,” she leaned over and whispered it into my ear before kissing my cheek.  
  
I smiled back, took her hand, and then kissed it. If nothing else, she was certainly more popular even though she would be much poorer.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
I must have fallen asleep. I thought I heard Cireolas crying but when I awoke he was not in his cot. A momentary flash of panic, and then relief, as I saw Legolas changing him on the table. He picked him back up and cuddled him. Cireolas was giggling as Legolas was saying nonsensical things to him and playing ‘Boo!’, his favourite game.   
  
Legolas sat beside me and I saw Anor first rays of light peeping over the horizon. “Mel woke up. He was in a lot of pain. Elrond has given him something for it, so it is looking good. He has some infection but it should be cleared in a couple of days.” Legolas handed Cireolas to me. “I am sorry I have spent so much time away, but we were so worried about him.”  
  
“It is all right.” I said and smiled. Cireolas pawed at my chest so I plugged him on and let him feed. No wet nurse for him. “How is Haldir?”  
  
“He moved his head but Elrond said that means nothing.” Legolas sighed heavily. “I really do hope he does not die. It would be a sadder place without him. Poor Celeborn will fade if he does.” Legolas stood up and then rubbed his back. “I am going to bed.” He smiled and kissed my cheek and then he kissed Cireolas, who took no notice as no one was going to interrupt his body temperature milk drink.  
  
Ada left and I felt Círdan snuggling up behind me and sighing happily because he could feel the elf of his desires in his arms. His arousal was digging hard into my back. “Muffy; move back a bit. I am feeding Cireolas.” He took no notice so I shook him until he was awake. “Mel has woken up. Haldir is still not looking good though.” Círdan propped himself up on one arm and stroked Cireolas’ cheek.   
  
“That is good.” He continued to stroke our baby elfling’s cheek. “When he is finished, can I have some?”  
  
  
 **Poo Shoes**  
  
  
  
This morning I got out of bed, with Elrond to steady me. It felt good to be out of bed even if it was only to sit in a chair. Cireolas immediately spotted that I was standing up, which felt strange after all the time I have spent laying down, and demanded a body temperature drink. Círdan picked him up, made the appropriate noises, and then took him over to the window so he could look outside. Cireolas was not easily distracted from his goal however, and so Círdan put his little finger in the tiny mouth, which our ion sucked most vigorously thinking that milk might appear at any second.  
  
“How is Haldir?” I asked Elrond, who was busy placing a small pillow against my belly to support the area, which was still infected but much better. I did not feel ill anymore and he was loathe to let me do anything that would make it worse.   
  
“He is stable.” Elrond seemed non-committal. “Worry about getting better yourself, Ereolas.” He nudged the pillow up against me. “Lean forward…not that much...right how does that feel?” I nodded that it was all right and then asked again.   
  
“You really are a persistent elf aren’t you?” Elrond gave me some nasty tea to drink. “I do not know if Haldir will live or not. All I can say is that the longer he stays alive the better his chances are.”  
  
I drank the tea and grimaced at the familiar bitterness. “Legolas has already told me that Mel is getting better. I hope Haldir lives.”  
  
“I am sure everybody hopes Haldir lives.” Elrond said with a tinge of unnecessary sarcasm in his voice. Círdan came over and placed the fractious Cireolas on my lap. “Hold him in your arms and do not let him lay against your belly.” Elrond lifted my arms up a bit to indicate how high I should hold my small ion and looked adoringly at him. “It is fortunate that he does not look like you, Ereolas.”  
  
Círdan and Elrond killed themselves with laughter at the insult. I knew he was joking, but it was on him because Cireolas most definitely does look like me. I merely rose above it and plugged Cireolas on to his feed supply. “They are the silliest elves in Middle-earth, my sweet one.” I said to Cireolas, who did not understand a word I said but looked with amused eyes anyway. He did not smile. He knew better than to let go of his drink supply.   
  
Cireolas fell asleep after his feed and so Círdan laid him in his cot. We looked out of the window together and could see the waterfalls and a group of elves swimming and splashing in the river. How I wished I could be out there instead of stuck inside, but it would not be forever. Círdan’s shoulder was warm against the back of my head and, as he stroked my hair and kissed my cheek and ear, I felt myself falling asleep. Waking up later, I found that Círdan and Cireolas were not in the room with me. I did not worry as I could hear them in the next room. Glorfindel was telling Cireolas how beautiful he was; nothing wrong with his eyes or perception then, and Círdan was telling him what Elrond had said to me.  
  
I overheard Glorfindel telling Cireolas that at least he had not been born with a porridge-filled beard, which made me smile because Círdan gets quite touchy about beard jokes, especially if they include food. I reached for my journal and quill.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Onto happier things. Thranduil was the most beautiful elfling ever born. He looked the spitting image of me when I was a child, according to his nanny, who was also my nanny when I was little Oropher. I was pleased about that and hoped that he would have my personality. It would be absolutely dreadful if he had Alatáriël’s taint within him. Anyway, this is not about when he was a baby, this is about when he put poo in my shoes.  
  
Thranduil has put poo in my shoes several times during his elfling period. The first time he was only ten years old and had no doubt seen bigger elflings doing it. I heard giggling outside my door, one evening. I would recognise that giggle anywhere. Opening the door swiftly, I saw Thranduil looking surprised. “Hello Ada.” He giggled again and held his arms up to me. I was surprised at how quickly he recovered from being caught doing something he should not.  
  
“Are you being naughty, Thranduil?” I gave him a big hug and he giggled again.  
  
“No, Ada. I am being good.” I raised an eyebrow and he explained further. “I am practising my naughty giggle just in case I forget it, because I am always good.” He laughed. “You know I am always good, Ada.” He was absolutely convulsing with laughter by now.  
  
Looking down I could see my shoes, which I had left out for the servants to take away and clean. There was a lump of poo in each one. Had I been Thranduil, I would have poked it up near the toes so that it could not be seen easily. He was not old enough to work that one out yet, I hoped. “What is that horrid smell, my little giggly one?” I asked smiling; his laughter was infectious.  
  
“IT’S POO!” Thranduil was absolutely helpless and tears of laughter ran down his face. I laughed too because he was so funny. “You are Ada Poo Shoes hahahahahahaha!”  
  
“You put poo in my shoes?” I tried to sound serious, I really did. “Why mine and not your Nana’s?” Poor little elfling did not know how to stop laughing; he thought it was the funniest thing he ever heard.  
  
“I put poo in Nana’s shoes as well.” Hysterical laughter followed and I wonder when he would stop. “She is Nana Poo Shoes now.” I wondered how the small elfling did not give himself a hernia, he laughed so hard.  
  
“I am going to put poo in your shoes,” I said in an amused voice to my laughing ion. “One day you will put your foot in your shoe; it will be all squidgy and smelly and I will call you Thranny Poo Shoes.”  
  
Thranduil giggled; he was quietening down by this time and had stopped jerking with uncontrollable laughter. “I will always sniff my shoes from now on, just in case you do.”  
  
“Hm…That will make you little Thranny Shoe Sniffer.” I laughed and he went off into paroxysms of uncontrolled hysteria again causing me to laugh harder.  
  
There was a knock on the door. I put Thranduil on the chair and told him to stay quiet. It was like asking Anor to stop shining. He quietened down a lot, but still giggled. There was another knock on the door, louder and more impatient. Swinging the door open, I put on my angry face so that the one who knocked would immediately apologise for the breach of etiquette. Believe it or not, there used to be rules about knocking on the king’s door and some say they are glad the rules are not used anymore, but personally I think they should bring them back. After all, familiarity breeds contempt.   
  
Crabbyarse stood facing me, accompanied by her minder, and asked angrily why her shoes were filled with poo. “How on Middle-earth would I know? You probably used them as a toilet.”   
  
“How dare you,” she screamed. Her face was as red as a raspberry, she was so angry.   
  
I looked down at my own shoes. “How strange. My shoes have poo in them too. Did you put it there, Alatáriël?” I looked with a serious face, which almost killed me as I wanted to laugh. “Did you, by some error, blame me and so decide to fill my shoes with poo as a sick revenge?”   
  
“You probably put it in there so you could get away with doing it to mine,” she hissed.  
  
“I am a king, Alatáriël. I would not do anything as unseemly. If I put poo in your shoes I would damn well admit to it, not that there is anything you could do about it anyway.” I made a dismissive gesture. “Now go away. I have finished talking to you.”  
  
She stormed off to her suite of rooms, followed by her minder, who never let her out of his sight; she was too dangerous to be left to her own devices. Thranduil saw her often, but there was always someone nearby. If she could kill her soul mate, she was capable in my eyes of killing her only elfling. I shut the door and went over to Thranduil who had a mouthful of sweets. He had so many that his cheeks were bulging.  
  
“Spit.” I held my palm under his chin. He spat most of them out. “Now why are you stuffing your face like that; you could choke.”  
  
“I put lots of sweets in my mouth to stop myself from giggling.” Thranduil grinned. “Can I eat them?” I gave them back to him, even though they were wet. When they were all eaten, he was very sticky, but extremely happy. There was red and blue sugar around his mouth and cheeks. After a quick wash he sat for the next hour and told me about his day.  
  
In the end, I asked him not to put poo in my shoes again because it was horrible for the servants to have to clean it out. I asked where he got the poo from, dreading the answer.  
  
“That’s an easy one,” my little ray of sunshine beamed. “I made it myself.”  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
It is with some satisfaction that I learned that Legolas filled Thranduil’s shoes with poo several times as an elfling. I was caught doing it too, when very young in this life, by Galion. He asked me what I was doing and I told him to bugger off and mind his own business. I did not know that Thranduil was behind me laughing. He picked me up and asked me if I was getting my revenge. He still remembered that I did not punish him for doing it to me, when he was young, and so he said nothing to my adas about it. Instead, he took me into his rooms and showed me the things he kept from my previous life. Most poignant was the length of hair he cut from my head after I was killed, so that he could keep a remembrance of me; it was braided, secured with a ribbon and kept in a small jewelled box by his bedside. He said that it was strange seeing his ada again as a small elfling and showed me a painting of Oropher when young. I looked exactly the same, as I would have expected to, being him reborn.  
  
Both Thranduil and Merilnis have been in to see me several times during my stay here; Erestor and Legolas have not visited as often, because of Mel, and so their visits have been most welcome in breaking up the boredom of lying in bed all the time.  
  
Erestor came to see me. He said that Haldir moved his head, groaned slightly and gripped Elrond’s hand when he told him to. Celeborn and Orophin are delighted, Elrond is still non-committal and Galadriel has stopped crying. Apparently Saelbeth, who is originally from Mithlond, walked up to her and told her that he had no idea who she was but he found her bloody hot and would she like to go for a walk in the Garden of Love that evening after dinner. Of course he knew who she was, but she does not know that. Apparently, she blushed like a maiden and agreed. I will certainly write about it when I hear the gossip. I told Erestor that I was relying on him to report back and he thought I was very funny. I suppose some of the elves here must be into ellith, but it is not a common occurrence. Mel is progressing well and Glorfindel slept for the first time last night since he was injured. Elrond is still keeping Mel asleep because of the pain but he will wake up in a day or two.  
  
I slept for a while after they visited and Elrond woke me up. He said I should consider if I still want to go ahead with having everything removed, that could lead to me having another elfling, or not. I feel a lot better and I really do not want to spend any more time in bed, but I also know that I do not want another elfling. I do not know what to do. Hm…I will have to think on that one.   
  
  
**The argument.**  
  
  
I have many things to tell in this entry.   
  
Most important of all, Haldir awoke and looked at Celeborn before falling straight back to sleep again. Elrond has abandoned his pessimism concerning Haldir’s prospects of recovery but remains cautious. Everyone else is jumping for joy.  
  
Mel wakes for short periods and then Elrond puts him back to sleep. He calls out for Glorfindel repeatedly in his sleep and I wish he would shut up. If I hear the name of my brother-in-law again I will scream. Glorfindel says, “I am here Mel, my only one.” He says it so often that it is reminiscent of a meaningless chant designed to bring one quickly to a state of peaceful mind, and if very lucky to Nirvana, which is probably where Erestor and Legolas were for brief periods last night.  
  
Erestor and Legolas spent the night outside, sleeping on a blanket under the stars, snuggled in each others’ arms, I expect, and because the wind was blowing this way we could all hear them having sex. I did not know it was still fashionable to shout out, ‘You are the best’ and ‘Fuck me, I’m going to die if I don’t come right now’, but now it seems I know better. Happily, I also know that, ‘Feel my heart; I thought that last come was going to kill me’, is quite acceptable if said after the third time of going at it like hammer and tongs and, ‘I need you inside me, now’ repeated often enough might just be believed. I know I am being sarcastic but it is a bit squicky hearing your parents shagging and I am extremely bored and just about holding my temper with Círdan who went swimming in the river this morning and thought that I would enjoy hearing the details of how much fun he had. Inconsiderate bastard.   
  
Círdan is looking over my shoulder and laughing. He has just asked me if, ‘shagging’ and ‘inconsiderate bastard’, are polite terms to use. Who cares, it is my journal and no one else is going to read it.  
  
“Galadriel met Saelbeth in the garden of love. I do not know what happened because she is being decidedly cagey, but she is acting like a young maiden in the first flushes of love. Saelbeth visited and I asked him if he had sex with Galadriel; he grinned and said it was for him to know and for us to mind our own business.” Círdan laughed when I told him and said that I am one of the nosiest elves alive. He should be as bored as me. No sex for him when I get better, unless he apologises, of course. Galadriel has taken Cireolas for the day, because she and Celebrian are going to sit in the sun and have a picnic and they both think that it would be a good idea for my ion to lie in the sun for a while.  
  
My scar is nearly healed. There is still some redness and swelling and Elrond says that it has to stay covered for a few more days. It does not hurt as much as it did, but it is still sore and hurts every time I laugh, cough, shout, fart or sneeze. I am best friends with a rolled up towel that I place against it for support when doing any of the above listed. I go nowhere without that towel and Elrond says I am like a little old human lady. He is such a gimp sometimes. Anyway, I can walk to the window with Círdan now and tomorrow I am going to visit Mel at his bedside.  
  
Círdan is irritating the bloody life out of me. We are fast approaching an argument. He fusses over me and allows me to do nothing; he also says that when we have our next elfling things will be different. What elfling is that, I wonder, and whose body is it anyway? I would like to see how he would cope with all the shit I have had to go through. I know he means well, but he is suffocating me. I am so depressed and I was beginning to feel good again. My elleth type feelings are fighting for dominance and it is hard to resist them.  
  
When Mel celebrated his fiftieth begetting day he let Glorfindel read his diaries and once he started he could not put them down. He sat reading in the Hall of Fire and peals of loud laughter issued from him every ten seconds or so. It is Glorfindel’s view that Mel has not changed much and I agree with him. He is much less insecure but still acts like a demanding little brat elfling. On the other hand, he is a fearsome warrior; not someone I would like to get into a fight with and he is only just over a hundred years old for all of that. He is built like a brick privy and nearly as big as Glorfindel. He looks exactly the same as Erestor in appearance and build, which is quite creepy really. Luckily, most elves can tell them apart.  
  
I look the same as Legolas, who in fact looks like Oropher, who is me as well. I look like Oropher because I was him, and Thranduil also looks like Oropher, and I look like Thranduil. Confusing, is it not? Suffice to say, it would be hard to tell me, Legolas and Thranduil apart. Círdan has just looked over my shoulder and said that he does not understand the sentence. He should not be reading my journal. He has just told me that I should go back to bed and have a sleep as I am becoming irritable. I am not going to let that pass; I have had enough!  
  
We have just had a terrible, screaming argument. Círdan has stormed off and yelled as a parting shot that he is going back to Mithlond and that I can go stick my head up my arse and that he does not want to see me anymore. Why is life so bloody awful?  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The day I died, we had a similar argument and Círdan stormed off. He was meant to go home later in the day because he needed to ensure the ships were ready to take the injured to Valinor, but he left several hours earlier because of the vicious argument we had. He shouted at me that he hoped I die because he had enough of me. He left full of anger and then stopped dead as though he thought about what he had just said. I stood watching him, broken that he could have said something that could very likely happen. We had bound the night before and could not control our tempers in the morning. We argued about whether our rings should be mithril or gold. So trivial and, in the end, so unimportant. He turned around and came back into the tent.  
  
“I am sorry; I did not mean what I said.” He kissed me. “I love you and will always love you. I really do have to go though, because you drive me to distraction. I will see you when our tempers have cooled and we can be rational.”  
  
“If I am still alive.” I said to him and he smiled.  
  
“Of course you will still be alive.” He kissed me and said softly in my ear, “I love you, stay safe for me.”  
  
It would have helped if he had remembered the note he carried in his pocket from Erestor. That would have gone a long way in ensuring that I was not killed. According to Námo, I would have died anyway because the Valar wanted Thranduil on the throne; apparently he is more inclined towards peace than I am. Ereinion died for the same reason; we were considered too battle-hardened and therefore unsuitable for the time of peace that the Valar planned for Middle-earth. It did not matter that we had plans of our own; just so long as they were happy.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
“Have you calmed down now?” Erestor stood in my room with a face like thunder and I looked away because my elleth type feelings were causing me to leak tears. “You two are as bad as one another. There are two sick elves out there. You are both so selfish. Do neither of you ever learn?” He stormed off, slamming the door.  
  
I sat, lonely, in my room and wished I had not lost my temper. My throat felt swollen and my eyes dripped stinging tears on to my hand. It was all too much; and I have had enough.   
  
“I am sorry.” Círdan knelt before my chair so that he was level with my face. “I said things I should not have. I cannot leave you, I love you too much.” He took a clean handkerchief and wiped my eyes. “I made you cry,” he said softly. I had not heard him come into the room  
  
I put my arms around Círdan’s neck and held onto him. Thinking that he might indeed go back to Mithlond had frightened me and Erestor compounded my desperation by shouting his head off. “I am so unhappy. Erestor shouted at me and made me cry.” I whispered.  
  
“Elrond is not going to approve, but I am going to do this anyway.” He gave me an outer robe to put on and I smiled because I thought that we would be going to our room. He gave me the towel and picked me up in his arms. I laid my head on his chest and he kicked the door open. He walked through and I briefly saw Mel and Haldir lying asleep. Their visitors looked astonished but I snuggled further into Muffy’s chest and smiled at them as we went past.   
  
“Where are you going?” Erestor demanded to know as we passed him.  
  
“Out!” Muffy replied angrily and stormed past him. I did not look at Erestor, and made out I was asleep, because he is my Ada and would have told me off or given me the glare that meant that he would see me later about my naughtiness. It is strange but, as big as we are, Mel and I still avoid getting on the wrong side of him.  
  
“Ereolas is still my ion, Círdan, and I happen to care what happens to him.” Erestor followed us out of the healing rooms and into the corridor.  
  
Círdan merely shook his head as if Erestor was a halfwit that had to be indulged and continued walking. Erestor said that he was going to inform Elrond and stormed off. We reached the garden and I looked at Muffy and smiled. “This is what you need.” He grinned and walked over to where Celebrian and Galadriel were sitting.   
  
Muffy put me down and sat behind me so I could lean against him. Cireolas was delighted to see me, as he would be because I am his ada and he adores me. I spent a happy half hour playing with him and talking to Galadriel and Celebrian. In the end, though, I became tired and asked Círdan to take me back, which he did.  
  
It felt good to be outside and sitting under Anor’s light. It made me feel like an elf again. Elrond came to see me and I expected that he would be very angry, but he was not.  
  
“You feel like this because you are depressed.” Really Elrond, how long did it take you to work that one out? “I think that sleeping in your own rooms would be better for you than remaining here. I will be visiting frequently though and if you do not improve I will bring you straight back here. All right?”  
  
I agreed and he gave me some of the nasty tea to drink; it made me feel very sleepy and I felt Muffy carefully pick me up in his arms and we left the room. I saw Erestor talking to Elrond who told him to be careful what he said to me as I was depressed. Erestor snorted in disbelief and then Elrond said something else and Erestor’s eyes widened in shock. I did not hear what was said though, but Erestor’s expression was not good. I am too tired to worry about it.  
  
Círdan laid me in the bed in our rooms and I fell asleep in his arms. We do not do well without each other and I was where I should be.  
  
I think everything should get better now.

 

  



	6. New Body, New Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ereolas kills himself but the Valar are having none of it. They have plans for him and taking him back to the Halls is not one of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is quite long but to fit in the plot it was necessary that it be so. A lot happens in this chapter and the events in it are pivotal to the rest of the story. In spite of the very dark themes of suicide and depression, it ends happily.
> 
>  
> 
> You may need tissues, or you may not!

 

 

I am not happy and neither is Círdan. We talked last night and I told him that I did not want any more children. He said that he already suspected this and, even though he would like more, my health was more important. We were too tired to yell at one another; that would come in the morning and I dreaded it. I know I am depressed and it has dulled my feelings towards him. I said to him that I did not know if I loved him anymore and that I needed time away from him to sort my feelings out because I cannot take the continuous arguing between us. He turned over, away from me. I put my hand on his back to apologise and he told me not to touch him. I wish I had not said it. It was wrong of me to hurt him, but what is said cannot be unsaid.

 

 

In the morning, I reached over to Círdan’s side of the bed so that, once again, I could apologise. He was not there. I was alone. Elrond came to visit shortly after and I told him what happened. He already knew and said that Círdan was in a different room with Cireolas and was dreadfully upset. According to him, Círdan still hoped that we could be together but would allow me the space I needed, even though it hurt him to be away. For a moment I thought he might have left for Mithlond but it seemed I under-estimated him; he has threatened to leave before. I asked to see my husband and Elrond refused.

 

 

I am so depressed and I really do not want to exist anymore. I cannot stand this feeling of overwhelming darkness. Elrond says I have to go back to the healing rooms; because of our separation there is no one to see to my needs. I asked about Erestor and Legolas; Elrond said that they had Mel to consider and that I was not their only ion. They take it in turns to sit with him, even though he is getting better and has Glorfindel in constant attendance. When I was seriously ill they did not sit with me, so why is Mel more important? I think that maybe they do not love me as much as they love Mel, perhaps they never have, and that is something I have to accept.

 

 

I know that it would be better if I were dead. Círdan could find someone else and Cireolas would soon forget me. Erestor and Legolas would have one less ion to worry about and I would be free of this constant isolation and pain-filled darkness. I feel as though I am at the bottom of an inescapable pit, shouting for help to those who walk above me. They do not see me and, in the end, I have given in to hopelessness as a black veil clouds my sight, thoughts and perception. I regret leaving Thranduil and the pain he will endure. He is on his way back to Mirkwood with Merilnis. At least he will remember me alive, but I still feel bad because this will be the second time he has lost me. I feel guilt about everyone who will be hurt but my mind is made up. I cannot live like this any longer and seek to be free of the painful despair that is my life. I have tried, I really have tried hard, but I cannot do this anymore.

 

 

The mirror in the bathroom smashed easily and I selected a particularly long and sharp looking shard. It is most odd that I took care not to cut my hand when breaking the mirror, it seemed important somehow. Hobbling back to the bed took a while and I made sure to shut the bathroom door so that the damaged mirror would not be seen. After pulling the bed covers up to my face, I shut my eyes and then felt for the vein at the top of my leg. It is a large vein and when cut cannot be easily repaired. More importantly, I could bleed to death and no one would be aware. None would see the blood because it would seep into the mattress and collect underneath the bed. By the time anyone realised it would be far too late to save me. It would not be nice for whoever had to clean the mess, but that was not a priority in my thoughts. One tends to consider only one’s self when planning such a thing.

 

 

I pushed the shard home and the raw, painful sting made me gasp. Taking a couple of deep breaths, I gritted my teeth and pulled it out. The hot flow of blood collected between my legs, pooling onto the mattress, where it seeped through. Soon I could hear lazy drips as the blood hit the floor. I shut my eyes and waited for Námo.

 

 

Whether it was by bad luck or preternatural timing, Círdan and Elrond walked through the door as I drew my last breath. “I will see him whether you like it or not, Elrond. He may think that he does not love me anymore, but I love him and I want to talk to him. You will not stop me.” Círdan sounded very angry.

 

 

“I am not trying to stop you from seeing him. I am just advising that your arguments are hurting… him…” Elrond’s mouth hung open in shock and Círdan asked what was wrong.

 

 

Námo held out his hand and I took it. Manwë, who accompanied Námo, stood looking at me as though I was the most stupid elf on Middle-earth. “You have totally buggered our plans,” he said irritably.

 

 

“I am ready to go back to the Halls,” I said to Námo. “Being reborn was a mistake; I see that now.”

 

 

I turned and saw that Erestor and Legolas had entered the room. Elrond was telling them that there was nothing he could have done. The puddle of blood seeped from under the bed and pooled around one of Círdan’s shoes. Legolas started to scream and in his agony he held my head and pleaded with me to wake up. Erestor held him and his body shook with his own grief. Círdan knelt down, put his arm over my chest and held my hand; he repeatedly said how sorry he was and did not seem to notice that he knelt in the dark red pool.

 

 

“You can forget dying. There is no place in the Halls for you, Oropher.” Námo seemed quite adamant.

 

 

“But I am dead,” I protested. I looked at myself and I was changed. Once again, I was Oropher. I still looked like Ereolas but my body was larger. I also had that certain something in my bearing, which my Ereolas self never had.

 

 

“You will live again and have the child we planned for you.” Manwë looked fearsomely angry and I did not dare argue. My mind was reeling though. Why me? More to the point, how were they going to pull this little trick off? Surely, they could not use my old body and I did not want it anyway. I did not want to be ill anymore and, for the first time in a long while, I felt healthy and strong. I was also free of my depression.

 

 

Nienna appeared next to Manwë. “Oropher, I understand the reasons for killing yourself but you have to go back. You will be re-embodied because we need you to have another child. He has expressly asked that you be his ada and we have agreed. We cannot be seen to be breaking our word.”

 

 

“It is not fair.” I felt my good humour leave me. “I do not want to be weak and in pain again.”

 

 

“This is how we should proceed.” Nienna put her arm through mine. “Now, you will be both Ereolas and Oropher, because you are the same person. You will be re-embodied as Ereolas but you will look like Oropher and have his body. You can use Oropher as part of your name; even though we said you could never use this name again, we are prepared to allow you this one small favour.”

 

 

“But I looked like Oropher anyway.” I was confused.

 

 

“As Ereolas you lacked that certain something that said you were Oropher, you did not have the bearing that said you were king. When you were reborn we decided to withhold that certain something because we knew you would be a troublesome baby.” Nienna walked around me, studying my form critically. “Your new body is more muscled, slightly taller and broader than your old one. All of it, except for the height, would have come with age anyway.” Nienna was beginning to be the lighthouse on the sea of my negativity. She looked at Manwë and Námo. “Do you agree?”

 

 

Both nodded that they agreed. Manwë looked at me, still with an irritated countenance, and said, “Oropher, you will remain as Prince Ereolas. Everything in your life will be as it was, apart from your new body. You will still desist from ever trying to be king again and you will continue to be banned from using that title, upon pain of death, even though you have your old advantages back. You are still bound to Círdan, so you can stop the, ‘do I love him or do I not. I need time alone,’ crap. You are bound, so of course you love him.”

 

 

“Will I be happier?” I thought it was most important they addressed this. “When I have this new baby will I get infected and have all the shit that comes with it?”

 

 

“It will not happen again, Ereolas,” Nienna said. “You were suicidally depressed because of all the poisons from the infection; it would never have cleared up properly and you would have probably died after the next child anyway. Now get on the bed; we need to re-embody you.”

 

 

“Remember Ereolas, do not bugger this up. If you do I will personally see that you are reborn as Elrond and Celebrían’s next child, who will be an elleth.” Manwë looked sternly at me. “I think that told him,” he said to Námo.

 

 

“I thought we already had little Arwen down to be their iell?” Námo looked surprised.

 

 

Manwë looked at Námo with annoyance and turned away.

 

 

“Lay on the bed,” Nienna urged. “We haven’t got much time. Fëanor has been taking classes in anger management and has produced his first ballet. It has fairies and bunnies in it and he is dancing in it himself. We really do not want to miss any of the pre-performance nibbles.”

 

 

The body on the bed disappeared and I was urged to lie on the top of the covers. I felt blood from the mattress seep upwards into my fëa. The elves around the bed looked alarmed and even more distressed. Legolas became hysterical and cried that he did not even have a grave to remember me by. I felt as though I had been selfish and I truly regretted hurting them. My new body formed in front of their very eyes. I felt the forming of each muscle fibre, each blood vessel, each nerve and all the other parts of my body. It did not hurt and, while it was happening, Nienna talked to me about my future, reiterating several times how much I was loved by everyone. Elrond found the sight so disgusting that he vomited in the bathroom. Legolas and Erestor clung to one another, terrified. Círdan took my hand, when it had reformed, and stared. Nienna, Námo and Manwë all waved goodbye. Manwë called out that I was not to do anything silly again, or else, and then they disappeared.

 

 

The ugly, swollen, red scar on my abdomen was gone. There was no pain and I felt good. I sat up, on the bed, completely nude and looking glorious. “I am back,” I said and grinned.

 

 

Legolas and Erestor threw their arms around me, while Círdan and Elrond looked on. “Is it really you?” Legolas asked.

 

 

“It is me, little Ereolas, and I feel great.”

 

 

“You have changed somehow. There is something different.” Erestor looked puzzled. “Ah well! Who cares? You are back and that is all that matters. Are you sure you are really you?” He kissed my cheek and held me tight.

 

 

“The Valar brought me back and gave me Oropher’s body. The old one was not up to much anymore and was riddled with poison from the infection; which is why I was so depressed.” I grinned and pointed at my belly. “Look, no scar.”

 

 

“Ereolas, don’t ever kill yourself again.” Legolas burst into a fresh set of tears. “I thought that I wanted to die too when I saw you had gone. I could not imagine living without you. You are my ion.” I put my arm around him and held him as he shook, crying with relief.

 

 

I apologised and Erestor hugged me and said he was sorry. “Elrond said you were suicidally depressed and I thought he was exaggerating. If only we had spent more time with you…”

 

 

“I would still be in pain and depressed,” I cut in quickly, truly regretting the hurt I had caused my adas. I put my arms around them both. “I am so sorry I hurt you.” There was nothing more I could say, and after a short while they eased their tight hold on me.

 

 

I looked over to Círdan, who seemed as though he was uncertain about how he should act towards me. “Come here, Muffy.” Erestor and Legolas drew back. I leapt off the bed, took hold of my handsome husband and kissed him hard on the lips.

 

 

Círdan gave me a look of pure lust mixed with relief. “You really are back,” he grinned. Elrond shook his head and told us we were incorrigible.

 

 

“Do we get an explanation now, or are you going to make us wait?” Elrond asked as he hugged me.

 

 

Even though I had said much of it before, I had to give a fuller explanation and I was asked several times if I was really Ereolas because my body was slightly bigger and I seemed different in my bearing somehow. I explained about the extra something that defined me as Oropher and how it was not given to me when I was reborn as Ereolas because the Valar wanted to discourage me from trying to be king again. I also explained several times about how Nienna had decided to do away with the poisoned Ereolas body and give me back my old Oropher one. Legolas was particularly affected and, at one point, he said that he would grieve for the old Ereolas. I told him that I was the old Ereolas, but he said it was not the same and it would take him a while to adjust. I put my arms around him and said that I was sorry I had upset him, but my old body was due to die in the future anyway or sail because of the infection that would not completely leave. That only partially comforted him and he told me that he still felt as though his child had died.

 

 

Erestor was more pragmatic. “Meleth,” he said to Legolas. “Because of this we will not have watch our ion becoming weaker and slowly dying in front of our eyes. Surely it is better that he is returned to us in this form, so that he can always be with us, than not at all?”

 

 

“Of course,” Legolas said as he buried his face in Erestor’s chest. “But I cannot change the way I feel. It will take time.”

 

 

Círdan pointed to a scar on my arm. “You really do have Oropher’s body. I remember you getting that scar and Ereolas certainly did not have one there.” He was so happy and he was waiting for me to say the words I had so cruelly taken from him the night before.

 

 

“I love you, Muffy.” I smiled and looked at the others in a silent request that they should get out of the room.

 

 

They stood there, staring at me. “At least use a different bed,” Elrond said. “That one is covered with your blood.” I had not thought of that.

 

 

“You need a bath as well.” Legolas was still upset but trying all he could to adapt. He hugged Erestor again and I saw fresh tears drip from one of his eyes.

 

 

“Shush…My love. He is not that different. This is how he would have looked in the future anyway. He has just missed out a few years, that is all.” Erestor held his arms around Legolas and stroked his back. “Come on. We have got blood on us. Let us go and bathe.” He gave Legolas a strange smile. “I know what will amuse you. Perhaps you would like to see what I look like in kitty ears?”

 

 

Legolas smiled through his tears and looked down because he was embarrassed; so he should be after all that sex I heard through the open window two nights ago. I cannot believe that Erestor has never worn the famous kitty ears either.

 

 

“Well I am glad it all ended so well. Celebrian has Cireolas by the way.” Elrond grinned. “We will bring him back in a couple of hours?”

 

 

I was not really listening. My fingers trailed across Muffy’s face and caressed his ear.

 

 

“In the bath,” Círdan said, and guided me into the bathroom. He stopped dead when he saw the mirror. “Let us go to our other room.” He wrapped a dressing gown around me and then pulled me close. “How was it so terrible that we could not sort it out? This is the second time you have died because we could not talk to one another.” He held onto me as if he would fall. “Do not leave me again.” His breathing was heavy and jagged, as if he was fighting to control his elleth-type feelings. I promised that I would always be by his side. I had hurt too many already and determined that I should never do so again.

 

 

We went to the room that Círdan slept in last night and showered quickly. The bed was massive and we lay on it and kissed. Hands roamed everywhere and Círdan smiled. “You are just as you were, Oropher.”

 

 

“I am Ereolas,” I said smiling.

 

 

“You feel like Oropher.” He looked surprised and took hold of my length. He held it in his hand and looked underneath. “You still have the stud in place; you definitely did not have a stud as Ereolas.”

 

 

“I have Oropher’s old body, a copy of it anyway. Believe me I am Ereolas.” I kissed Muffy and ran my fingers down his side, causing him to shudder.

 

 

Círdan wisely said nothing. He kissed me hard and held me down as he licked and kissed my ear while grinding his arousal down onto mine. It was never going to be a long session; we had waited too long. He fleetingly kissed my neck and worked his way down to my nipples, giving them a cursory bite and a suck, then looked up at me and grinned. “You still have milk.”

 

 

I smiled widely, “Suck me.” My breathing was rapid and jagged. I needed him now. “Suck me, Muffy.” I sounded urgent because I was. He obliged and engulfed my arousal in his hot mouth. The feeling welled up inside of me and I arched up as I came.

 

 

It had been so long and I came with an almost painful intensity. A finger pushed inside me, and then another, wetted with my seed from Muffy’s mouth. “Círdan, now…now…hurry…” I was hard again and could not wait for him to take me.

 

 

“Need oil.” Círdan frantically looked around and then removed his fingers. He ran to the bathroom and emerged with some bath oil. After smearing a handful on his length, he pushed home. He was inside me, up to the hilt, and stopped so I could relax my ring slightly. It had been a long time, and through the burning was a sweeter sensation. I felt loved and adored. The only one I could ever love was inside me, taking possession of my body and my being. A deep kiss and then long slow movements in and out, hitting my secret centre of joy every time. The pace quickened and I thought I would fly up into the stars because of my lightness of being in the joy that I felt. Círdan felt it too and soon, when we came, we rose above upwards and our fëar became as one before splitting and taking a small part of ourselves into the others’ body.

 

 

Muffy slumped onto my body and I held him close. “That was so good…I love you so much.” I kissed him and he replied that he loved me too. We continued to kiss and then I caressed his neck with my tongue while running my fingers through his hair. After flipping him over, onto his back, I gave him so many kisses, licks, caresses and bites that he writhed with sensation overload.

 

 

“It is unbearable,” Muffy, laughed. “It is too much.” He squirmed as I held him down. When I was Ereolas, I was not as strong as Círdan. Now I was his equal. He struggled, but I held him fast. We were both laughing, fit to burst.

 

 

I parted his legs and held his balls in my hands. Squatting beside him, my fingers stroked the pit of his belly causing him to shudder with delight. The oil was by the bed, so I left teasing my only one and oiled myself. One finger slipped into his entrance. My head went down and I took him into my mouth. As I worked on his cock I slipped another finger inside him. He groaned with the bliss of a long forgotten feeling that is suddenly remembered as being overwhelmingly sybaritic in delight. A third finger, and then a fourth, thrusting in and out; he writhed in helpless delight and came suddenly, without warning. The juices dripped out of my mouth and down his crack, where they were smeared around his willing entrance. Lining my arousal up against his opening, I pushed in until deep inside. Círdan gasped and urged me to start moving, which I did in tiny teasing movements while he breathed rapidly, begging me to go faster.

 

 

Círdan’s feet rested against my shoulders as I held his lower back in position and pumped in and out. Each thrust was slightly quicker than the last and soon I was slamming into him. He called out his bliss, pleading with me to go even faster and deeper. “Take hold of yourself,” I urged. With a few more swift, intense thrusts I came, howling like an animal as I did so. Círdan yelled how, ‘fucking great’ I was as he arched upwards, his face contorted with passion. I gently lowered his ass and legs to the bed and pulled the covers over us both.

 

 

We talked for a while, stroking each other and snuggling in close. At some point, we must have fallen asleep because Elrond, who carried Cireolas in his arms, woke us up. He handed my small ion to me, who rooted around until he found my nipple.

 

 

Elrond sat by the bed and smiled. “Haldir is awake and so is Mel. It is looking a good day for everyone.” I smiled and thanked him for all his care. In one year I would need his help again. The Valar had been quick off the mark; after our fëa had joined and split again during our moment of supreme bliss, I felt the presence of tiny fëa enter my body and settle deep inside.

 

 

I thought I might even know who it was!

 

 


	7. Loves First Kiss, Kitty Ears, Leading Celeborn Astray - Doggy Style

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ereolas writes about how he met Cirdan when he was Oropher and what he did to his wife when he wanted her to go to bed. Galadriel has agreed to give Celeborn a divorce and Haldir wakes up. Elrond is having none of that - he wants him to stay asleep.

**Loves first kiss.  
**  

My new body is beyond all I ever hoped for. I spent the morning sparring with Círdan and won every single match. The old body was never this strong, even when healthy. Little Cireolas sat watching us, bobbing up and down in his bouncer and holding onto his fully poseable Fëanor action doll. Every so often he gurgled out what we like to think was encouragement but was probably, _Hahaha! Ada Círdan; you are getting your arse whipped._

 

Because we are responsible parents and like our ion to be clean, we took Cireolas off to bathe with us afterwards and played ‘make the wooden duck swear an oath and follow Fëanor the action doll to his doom’. The toys had to fight dangerous bubbles, Círdan’s killer stubble, an evil bottle of bath oil, Elladan and Elrohir - the malevolent twin sock puppets and a malicious bar of soap. My little ion squealed with delight all the way through, only becoming a bit grizzly when I washed his face. We spent about half an hour playing with Cireolas before getting out and drying off. Our tiny ion was not happy about having to get out of the bath and protested loudly; his baby squeaks and angry eyes showing just how annoyed he was.

 

We dressed quickly and brushed our hair. Círdan and I settled for damp braids while Cireolas’ fine blond hair was quickly combed into place before springing back to how it normally is – all over fluffiness.

 

“Now we are all clean and dressed, we are going off to visit Mel and Haldir.” I said to Cireolas, who was paying no attention whatsoever because Círdan kept popping his head up from behind the sofa and shouting, “Boo!” My ion thought this was marvellously funny and chuckled excitedly every time he saw Círdan’s head.

 

Oops! Cireolas has done a poo in his nappy and it is Círdan’s turn to change him. Time to write some of my journal I think.

 

 **********

 

It was some time after I separated from Alatáriël that I met Círdan. I had met him fleetingly before at official functions, including my coronation, but this was the first time I was to receive an official visit from the Lord of Mithlond. I felt as though we knew each other from our correspondence, both official and otherwise, and so I was looking forward to meeting him. Alatáriël was on her yearly visit to her parent’s princedom so it was quite convenient, especially in view of what happened during Círdan’s stay.

 

We were supposed to be using the time to draw up new trade agreements but, thanks to the counsellors in both realms, most of the work was done. It meant that Círdan could enjoy the time as a holiday rather than working. The procession from Mithlond drew up at the gates of my palace and Círdan was at the head. He was larger than I remembered and he had the most piercing blue eyes. From a distance, I could feel them on me, penetrating my being and stripping away my psyche. Even now I know when he is looking at me; it can be most unnerving. The procession drew nearer and my nervousness increased.

 

The procession stopped. Círdan dismounted, closely followed by his captain and chief adviser. I stood at the head of the line of courtiers with my chief adviser, who moved into position to make the formal introductions.

 

Who knew what was said. I was rooted to the ground and speechless. I found I could not speak properly and was like a love struck elfling. Círdan shook my hand and I am sure I must have greeted him properly because there was no comment from my advisor afterwards. We went to the Hall of Queenly Delights for the welcoming reception, where all meals were served. My nana named it thus; she said the pastry cooks in the Greenwood were the best in Arda. In her memory, I did not rename it after she died.

 

It was not a large buffet and intended as light refreshment only; however; here was an opportunity to mingle on an informal basis with the party from Mithlond.  After an hour, the party were taken in groups and shown to their rooms, the servants having already unpacked their belongings. This gave the members of the Mithlond party the rest of the afternoon free.

 

I accompanied Círdan to his room and my chief advisor and I went into the room with him to make sure that he had every comfort he desired. He was perfectly satisfied with the accommodation and, as etiquette demanded, we made to leave the room.

 

“Your Majesty, I would consider it an honour if you would stay and share a glass of new Mithlond wine with me.” Círdan knew that etiquette demanded I not refuse and that the chief advisor should remove himself as quickly and as graciously as possible.

 

“It would be my pleasure, Lord Círdan.” I smiled graciously, as a king should. The door to the rooms softly closed and we were alone. “Please call me Oropher.” I smiled politely and sat down in the chair at the table.

 

“Then you must call me Círdan.” He pulled the cork out of the bottle and poured the wine. “Let us both sit on the sofa.”

 

We talked about many things and, after finishing our glass of wine, we left his rooms for a tour of the palace. Círdan was easy to talk to and there were no uncomfortable pauses. His eyes still seemed to bore straight through me but I was getting used to it.

 

All through our pleasant afternoon I could feel that we were becoming closer, as if we were old friends who had spent some time apart and had slipped into comfortable familiarity upon meeting again.

 

It was while we were on the balcony in the Hall of Thrones that I kissed Círdan . The balcony overlooked a large waterfall that poured into a lake feeding a river over the far side. I pointed over to a large tree overlooking the top of the fall. My face was close and I could smell his sweet, clean scent. I still have no way of explaining why I did it, but I moved closer and gave him a small kiss on the cheek. I apologised immediately after and jumped back as he turned to look at me.

 

“If you had not kissed me, then I would have kissed you.” He held my hand to kiss my fingers and smiled.

 

Emboldened I moved towards him and put my hand on his cheek, wondering if I was brave enough to take the next step. I hesitantly leaned forward and he met me halfway. We held one another and kissed, tasting one another for the first time. It felt right and I wanted more. I looked at Círdan in wonder. How was it that he could make me feel like a blushing maiden? I knew not, but I was thankful that his visit was not going to be a short one.

 

*********

 

Cireolas’ nappy is changed and now he wants a drink of body temperature milk. Such a demanding little elfling; I do not know who he gets it from.

 

*******

 

We went to see Mel and Haldir. My brother is in a side room and Haldir is still in the main area. I walked in and Celeborn gasped. “Oropher?” he said in confused wonder.

 

“Ereolas,” I replied.

 

“I do not understand.” It is not often one can strike Celeborn to near on speechless, but because I am a very nice and kind elf I put him out of his misery and told him about how the Valar changed me because my old body was dying. I left out the suicide, not feeling comfortable talking about it, and Erestor, Legolas and Elrond had said nothing about the event.

 

Círdan became bored at that point and asked, rather pointedly, how Haldir was faring.

 

 _“Jealous are you, sweet one, or are you just pissed at me for whipping your ass this morning?”_ I teased through our connection. Círdan pinched my butt cheek and laughed when I jumped in surprise.

 

“I can still get one over on you, Ereolas.” He kissed my cheek and whispered, “Behave or we will spar in bed and I most definitely will win.”

 

Celeborn smiled and said that when Haldir recovered he hoped to have the same easy loving relationship with him as Círdan and I have, without having to be circumspect just in case anyone was watching. I bet he is not aware that we argue like cat and dog; I am sure he would hate that. Haldir stirred and opened his eyes. Orophin, who opposite Celeborn, stroked his brother’s head and reassured him with soft words.

 

“Am I in the Halls?” Haldir’s face clouded and he looked confused. Celeborn tried to reassure him but Haldir was most insistent. He said several times that he could see Oropher standing before him and so he must be in the Halls.

 

Elrond waltzed up to our happy scene and gave Haldir a small glass of white medicine, which sent him back to sleep. “Causing trouble are we, Ereolas?” He smiled at me and poked Cireolas in the belly, causing him to giggle.

 

“I was merely enquiring after Haldir’s recovery.” I grinned. “I cannot help it if I look absolutely gorgeous now. Can I?”

 

Elrond took hold of Cireolas and asked him if he would like to see Uncle Elrohir, who was in the healing rooms making a hangover cure for his brother. My little ion adores Elrohir; for some reason anything he does makes him squeal with laughter.  Elrond took him away and I could hear Cireolas’ delighted giggles in the background and while Elrohir chattered to him.

 

Turning our attention back to Celeborn and Orophin, Muffy asked why it was taking so long for Haldir to recover. Orophin said that the orc blades were poisoned and that Haldir’s wounds were leaking pus all over his body. Looking at his face, which only has a couple of minor wounds; one would not know that he was so injured. Celeborn and Orophin looked tired, they are stressed beyond belief and neither is sleeping for any appreciable period of time.

 

“Galadriel has agreed to give me a divorce; I just hope that I am able to make use of it.” Celeborn gripped Haldir’s hand tighter and looked at him.

 

How ironic, Galadriel has agreed to a divorce to be with Saelbeth. According to Muffy, she is flittering around like a happy maiden in the first flushes of love. If I am not mistaken, Saelbeth took Haldir to bed when he was last at in Mithlond; I do not think we should tell his new love interest that little nugget though.

 

We visited Mel straight after seeing Haldir. Glorfindel sat beside the bed holding Mel’s hand; my brother was wide-awake. Glorfindel looked in shock at me. “You are different,” he said. “You are larger and you do not look sick anymore.”

 

Mel was looking perplexed. “How are you as big as me, and why do you look like Oropher?” I had to tell the whole story. No one had told Mel because he might become upset. Of course, I did not go into gory detail. Mel remembered me from the Halls and, in the end, he thought it wonderful that I looked the same as I once did.

 

“I will be out of here tomorrow,” he grinned. “I am going to get better in our rooms, aren’t I ‘Fin?”

 

Glorfindel tried to look cheerful about it. “Yes, Mel.”

 

“I am sure I will recover a lot quicker with you by my side twenty-four hours a day.” Mel the minx, grinned and kissed his husband’s fingers.

 

I can see it now, Queen Mel demanding the outrageous from the much harried Glorfindel and nothing he does being good enough. Glorfindel will lose his temper pretty quickly and then Mel will look coy and seductive, reducing him jelly. They have a odd relationship, which they enjoy to the full, and their sex life seems just as strange. Once when they were on patrol, shortly after getting married, Glorfindel pulled Mel round the back of a tree, quite a distance from the others, and he spanked him. Everyone heard him telling Mel off for whining, sulking and being irritable and rude to various members of the patrol. Then, apparently, it went quiet and for a long time nobody saw them. When they eventually emerged, Glorfindel had a large smile over his face and Mel looked tired, flushed and happy. They slept in each other’s arms, behind a fallen log for privacy, but everyone heard them several times that night.

 

I asked Mel about it when he arrived back and he said he deliberately wound Glorfindel up that day and got the desired result; he seemed extremely proud of himself. I am aware that some will cover for an abusive partner and, at first, I suspected this might be the case, but having closely observed them I now see it for the game it is. Both of them choose their words for maximum effect and thoroughly enjoy themselves as they do so. When they have said enough, one will take hold of the other and then their fun starts.

 

Erestor and Legolas find their behaviour quite embarrassing, but Mel and I find kitty ears and tail just as mortifying, especially when Legolas forgets he has them on and wears them for breakfast.

 

“Círdan and I are going out into the garden now. We will probably have a swim in the river. It is a shame you cannot join us.” I laughed at my naughtiness and did not feel bad at all. He would have done it to me. Glorfindel laughed and Mel gave me the evil eye.

 

“I am telling Ada Erestor on you.”

 

 

 

**Kitty ears.**

I am so happy and I feel so healthy. I realise now that I feel healthier than I ever did with my old body, which definitely means the Valar gave me a sub-standard one. I have so much energy and lucky Círdan is getting sex non-stop, except when Cireolas is with us, of course. I have a little fëa inside me and I am almost certain that it is Ereinion. Who else loved me enough to ask that I be their parent? The fëa cannot belong to one of my first set of parents; they would not have dreamed of asking for me to be their ada because there would be an intolerable reversal of roles. I do not think there are any others who are dead that would wish me to be their ada and, apparently, I knew this elf very well. I am going to refer to my baby’s fëa as Ereinion because it feels completely right.

 

A mischievous thought occurs to me. Ereinion was Erestor’s lover for centuries. Even though my ada had Elrond as a side dish the High King was still his main course, so to speak. I wonder if there will be any delicious consequences and whether I should tell my ada who I suspect my baby’s fëa might be. I will talk to Círdan so we can decide something, that way he can take half the blame when Erestor loses his temper, which he will.

 

I saw Legolas this morning when coming back from the library, where I borrowed a book about etiquette. He was walking down the corridor and looking small and lost. He is trying hard, but still cannot equate the old Ereolas with me as I am now. He sees me as Oropher, and Ereolas is dead. I walked up behind him and put my arms around him. “Ada, I love you.” I whispered in his ear and kissed his cheek. He clasped his hands over mine and I felt his smile.

 

“Hello Ereolas.” He seemed tired, and in spite of his frame, which was easily as large as mine, he seemed frail.

 

“Ada, I have a fantastic new book on dynamic fashion in etiquette among Hobbits. They have thirty-four different types of fork and only four types of spoon; isn’t that exciting?” I gave him a beaming smile.

 

“Ereolas, you are seriously weird.” Legolas linked his arm in mine. “Let us go and see Ada Erestor; he is still in bed and waiting for me. You can show him your new book.”

 

“Ada, are you all right now? I am worried about you. I do not like to see you like this.” I watched Legolas furrow his brow and bite his bottom lip. I wished I had said nothing.

 

“I will be all right.” He pulled me forward and told me to get a move on as it was cold in the corridor.

 

Erestor was indeed in bed and was happy to see me. There was a pile of kitty ears on the bed. I looked pointedly at them, thinking that Erestor would be good mannered enough to put them away but he did no such thing. Instead, he put them on. “What do you think?” He took them off and swapped them with another pair. “How about these?” I did not realise they owned so many pairs of kitty ears.

 

Legolas snuggled up beside Erestor and said that he thought I should try them on so that they could both judge what they looked like. I was their unwilling and very embarrassed model. They had a whole chest of the bloody things! “I am not modelling any tails,” I informed them with a resolute look. “It is bad enough wearing the kitty ears. No doubt you have worn them in action?” Legolas nodded with a lazy smile. “It is too repulsive to even think of wearing something up my arse that my own ada has worn before, so I am not doing it.” That told them and at the same time I was reinforcing in Legolas’ mind that I was still his ion.

 

“I should think not,” Legolas, laughed. “I have already modeled those. Now put those black and white frilly ears on.”

 

“I like them.” Erestor was nearly salivating, which I found a bit yucky as I am his ion. “He looks just like you in those ears, meleth.”

 

“Pink ones.” Legolas commanded and I duly complied. “Now the black leather studded ones.”

 

 “Ada, I have a new book on etiquette. It is most fascinating.” I thought Erestor would have been interested.

 

“Put the ones on that look like real cat ears.” Erestor was not interested at all, damned pervert. “Right now put the shiny black rubber ones on.” Erestor looked at Legolas. “You will look so sexy in them tonight, my only one.”

 

“I have the outfit that goes with it.” Legolas teased my impressionable ada. “It is tight, black, skin hugging and shiny. There is a slit underneath for…”

 

“Eeeeew!” I shouted in disgust and pulled the ears off my head. “You are my ada’s. How can you go on like this and in front of me? Do not force me to wear your sex gear. I am your ion, I cannot handle it.”

 

Legolas smiled. “Only Ereolas would have done that. Oropher wouldn’t have cared less.” He hugged me and sounded relieved. “You do not have to wear any more ears, sweetie. I know who you are now.”

 

“Well thank the Valar for that. Can I go now?” My ada’s sat grinning at me.

 

 “Give your ada’s a hug and then you can go.” Erestor sat bare-chested and with the sheet just covering his lower abdomen and willy, the outline of which seeming suspiciously big under the covers. I was reticent but hugged them anyway, trying not to look anywhere but their faces. Parents can be so embarrassing. I left as soon as I decently could and then realised that I had left my book on their bed.

 

 

Damn they were quick off the mark. I walked straight back in without any time delay at all. Guess what? Erestor had thrown the sheets off and his bare ass was showing as he was on his knees and rimming Legolas, who had a leg up on Erestor’s shoulder and the other one held up to his chest. His head was thrown back and he was urging Erestor to push his tongue in harder. I really wanted to read my new book and so I ran in, swift as the wind, grabbed the book and ran out really fast, hoping that they did not notice.

 

I got back to the bedroom, too embarrassed to admit that I had spent the past half hour modelling kitty ears, when Círdan irritably asked me how long it took to select a book. He picked up his copy of ‘Dúnedain Love Poetry, Third Edition,’ and put it on the bedside table. I picked Cireolas up and, once again, marvelled at how I had the most beautiful ion on Middle-earth and wondered if the new elfling would be so pretty. He will be mine, so I expect he will.

 

 

 

 

 **Leading Celeborn Astray – Doggy Style.**  

 

The new book on etiquette during the hobbit migration to the Shire is so riveting that I can hardly tear myself away from it. Imagine this; they have twenty-seven different types of knife and a different bowl for each type of dessert. Hobbits list over three hundred desserts in their normal repertoire, plus another sixty for special occasions. The whole thing is jolly exciting and I think Círdan would probably agree to visit there one day, if I can talk him into it. We do not know much about hobbits and so he might be reluctant. Anyway, they have too many different types of beer to be counted and each has its own song. Absolutely amazing!

 

Galadriel is in love and swanning around like a young maiden in her first flushes. Elrond has signed his agreement to the divorce and, apparently, Thranduil has as well, before he and Merilnis went back home. It is custom that if the divorce would upset the stability of Middle-earth, and a solution is not forthcoming, then it is not allowed. Celeborn will retain his status as Lord of Lothlórien and Saelbeth will continue to be Galadriel’s bitch. That was mean of me, but I am feeling in an especially sarcastic mood today because Erestor and Legolas made me wear their disgusting kitty ears this morning and I am still miffed at them.

 

They make a funny couple. Saelbeth is a huge warrior with rippling muscles of hard iron. He is damn good in bed too. Círdan and I were absolutely drunk a few years ago, which is the excuse we are sticking with, and we bedded Saelbeth. We did not get a wink of sleep all night. We all had to sit down with extreme care the next day, but it was so worth it. Galadriel is easily the same size as her new lover and has bulging muscles that would put most warriors to shame. She waded in and fought seven orcs in the battle that left Mel and Haldir injured and was not even scratched. Perhaps Saelbeth is the best choice for her; at least she does not frighten him. It is odd though that after having sex with ellon for all those years he now wants an elleth. Although, looking at Galadriel, and how unfeminine she is, it is probably not that strange at all.

 

I am sitting out in the garden with my beautiful little ion. He is the sweetest and prettiest elfling in the whole of Arda and he is squealing with joy because he can see Círdan approaching; such a clever little baby. Círdan is carrying a picnic basket, so I will put my journal aside and devote my time to my family.

 

********

 

Círdan is lying with Cireolas on his chest. They are both fast asleep. There is a fly buzzing around Círdan’s stubbly chin, probably hoping for some food. My husband is too neat and fastidious to even allow the merest suspicion of food to fall anywhere near his stubble, it is close clipped to his skin but I wish he would use a blade and shave it completely off. When he sails the departing elves to Valinor, my only one always comes back with a full beard, which I find repulsive because there is always the possibility of beard food hiding between the hairs. He has to clip it off before he is allowed a welcome home kiss. I have observed that humans often leave food in their beards and joke about it, as if it is something of which they should be proud. Furthermore, they are so long that one can easily pull them down with one hand and punch them in the face with the other, if you want to get festering porridge on your fingers, that is. Círdan’s fluffiness is very short and close to his skin; cleanliness is paramount to an elf and a long beard would be too revolting to contemplate.

 

I do not want to read anymore of my etiquette book at the moment; it is so riveting that I fear I will finish it too fast. I want to read some before I go to sleep tonight so that I have happy dreams. So now I have my journal in one hand and my quill in the other. Time to write about when I was Oropher.

 

*************

 

I am rather proud to say that Celeborn did not invent the ‘I believe I am a dog’ ruse that he has used on Galadriel for the past two or three hundred years. It was during a state visit by Galadriel and Celeborn, and all their hangers on, that Celeborn saw me impersonating a dog to avoid being with Alatáriël, whom I called Crabbyarse. At the time, our separation was in place and her lover had just died in mysterious circumstances because Crabbyarse did not want to give up being queen. She demanded that I did not see Círdan anymore, while quietly gathering forces against me. It became dangerous for him to visit, but even Alatáriël would not be foolhardy enough to make a direct attempt on Círdan’s life while Galadriel and Celeborn were visiting and so I was able to see him that one time.

 

Just before the visit, I hit upon the ruse. A small dog bit me and it drew blood. As quick as lightening strikes the tops of the trees I had a brilliant idea: pretend that some of the canine’s doggyness has infected me to the point where I believe I am one. I considered wringing the dog’s neck but as it had filled me with inspiration I let it live. It was vicious, like her, so I made the bitch a present of it. It was no surprise that they adored each other on first sight.

 

Crabbyarse installed herself back in my bedroom, without my permission, and told me to get used to it as she was going to be my wife again. I did not argue. I merely leapt upon the bed and licked her while she struggled to stop me. I growled and then leapt at her again, biting her so hard on the breast that she screamed for help.

 

Two guards burst through the door and I drew my sword. “He attacked me.” Crabbyarse whined to them with tears in her eyes and pointing a quavering finger. The guards looked at me as if I should give an explanation.

 

“Get out of my rooms.” I ordered, looking kingly in every way, sword drawn and ready to run them both through. They apologised immediately and hurried out through the door.

 

“Come back here, you cowards,” Crabbyarse screamed at the top of her voice.

 

I walked back over to the bed and smirked at the bitch. “Now where was I?”

 

I did this to Crabbyarse every time I saw her in my bedroom. She moved back into her own rooms pretty swiftly.

 

When Galadriel and Celeborn arrived, I thought it safe to receive Círdan as well and installed him in my rooms. Saelbeth was his permanent bodyguard, not that he needed one, but there is always more safety in numbers. I also provided a guard whom I knew to be trustworthy. It is a dreadful shock when one becomes aware that there are movements afoot to usurp their kingship. I could round up the perpetrators and followers after the visit, but for now appearances would have to be maintained. Crabbyarse greeted our Lothlórien visitors as my queen and I forced her to be nice to Círdan  as well.

 

It was obvious that Celeborn’s interest lay in a young Galadhel called Haldir. He confided in me that one day he hoped to have the warrior for himself but he was worried about Galadriel’s reaction. I told him about acting like a doggy and offered to show him what I meant at the next opportunity.

 

Galadriel asked me to talk to her about something the trees had whispered to her concerning Alatáriël killing her lover. She was horrified to find out the rumours were true. I agreed that we would all meet while Crabbyarse was safely locked in her rooms that evening. However, later that evening the cow refused to go to bed.

 

It was quite late and we were all making out that we were retiring for the night. Alatáriël did not believe us for one moment and refused to leave. To avoid a potentially embarrassing situation, I said that I thought I might be changing into a doggy again. She replied that I would not dare. I leapt upon her and licked her neck and face while she vainly tried to fend me off. The guards knew better than to intervene. Galadriel, Celeborn and Círdan stood watching with a horrified fascination. The masterstroke was when I cocked my leg up in the air and peed all over her dress. She stood up and screamed like a banshee while I poked my head up her dress and savagely bit her knee.

 

In the end, Crabbyarse was begging me to let her go. Tears streamed down her face and she held the wet portion of her dress away from her. I stood up, pulled her to me as if to embrace her, and whispered, “Every time you disobey me, I will do that to you.”

 

“You hurt me,” she whined.

 

“At least I did not murder my soul mate.” I gripped her arm hard. “Do you think you deserve any mercy, kinslayer?”

 

She pulled her arm away and looked at the others as though she hated them. “It is better to be a kinslayer than to be you and sleeping with a filthy pig.” She looked at Círdan before turning to make a dramatic exit. Unfortunately, she tripped on her dress and fell flat on her face.

 

I could not help laughing. Alatáriël scrambled to her feet up and delivered a ringing slap to my face before making her exit with the sounds of my laughter still ringing in her ears. Poor Círdan; I wanted to kill her for that.

 

Celeborn was impressed and said later that that he could do a modified version to Galadriel. He would insist on going for walkies and knew she would find this embarrassing enough to let him go out on his own. I wondered how he would get away with such a thing, when his wife had seen me in action. She might accuse him of emulating my behaviour and not believe him at all.

 

That night Círdan and I agreed that it would be too dangerous for him to visit again and he should leave the next morning. The menace in the air was palpable and sometimes I wondered if walking down a dark corridor would mean a dagger in my back, or worse. Galadriel and Celeborn had both heard the accusations of the trees and offered to leave a trusted guard from Lothlórien with me on the pretext of offering extra training in a skill exchange. That way the warriors who I identified as most likely to betray me could go to Lothlórien and the risk of my kingdom being usurped would be reduced. This would leave time to investigate thoroughly, so that the crisis could be sorted once and for all.

 

So that is how Celeborn found out about how effective doggy impersonation is. He did it slightly different though. He pretended that he was actually a dog all the time and had no wish to hurt Galadriel. She told me once that he would curl up in her lap in the evenings, which she found quite sweet. I wonder how someone as big as Celeborn is able to curl up in anyone’s lap. I think it would be useless to give it any further thought.

 

 

My little ion, Cireolas, has woken up and wants a drink of body temperature milk. He needs his nappy changing first. Right I have done it. Apparently Círdan did not smell anything because he was asleep, as if I believe that. I have sent him off to order afternoon tea and I am now feeding the happy little spud as I write.

 

*********

 

I wonder if Mel has driven Glorfindel insane yet with all his demands. Haldir is slowly improving but with Elrond’s love of administering sleeping medicine he could lay there for another year before he is allowed to awaken fully. I am exaggerating about Elrond but I seem to remember him keeping me asleep for most of the time I was last in the healing rooms.

 

I have not seen my Adas since this morning. No doubt, they have realised the error of their ways and are too embarrassed to make an appearance. I expect I will see them at dinner. Tonight we are sharing a table with Elladan and Elrohir who want to see Cireolas because he cracks them up when he giggles. They think he is the funniest little baby anywhere and they are very good with him; they babysit occasionally and he absolutely loves being with them. They bought him a Mad Maglor, fully poseable action doll complete with throwable Silmaril that is attached to the doll’s wrist with a cord. Apparently, it is the second in the set of dolls in the Oath of Fëanor collection. I would have thought Maedhros would have been the next one they made, but it seems not. These doll makers are a law unto themselves.

 

It is afternoon teatime. Now I wonder what the hobbits in the shires do for afternoon tea. I have an almost compulsive urge to find out.

 

 

 

 


	8. Oops Nearly Caught!, Thranduil’s blessing, Erestor’s revenge.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ********Ereolas reminisces about when Cirdan nearly caught him, when Oropher, in the bath with Ereinion. Erestor catches Oropher in bed with Ereinion and exacts a terrible revenge which backfires. Baby Thranduil is blessed by the Valar. **  
>  ******

**********Part 20 – Oops Nearly Caught! **********

What an excellent library Imladris has. I have read a book on etiquette in the Hobbit Shires three times now and each time it was a joy to do so. Now I am reading another book titled Númenórean Sandal Wearing Etiquette. It is a rather slim volume, and a transcribed copy, but superb reading nonetheless. How fascinating that the wearing of silver studs on sandals could indicate sexual preference and if the studs were gold how many children one had. Absolutely riveting! Elrond is most anxious that I see the original; it is stored under lock and key because it is the only surviving copy in existence. We will have to wear white cotton gloves when we look at it so the paper does not degrade due to the grease on our fingertips. I am so excited. It is like a dream come true. I never tire of etiquette; it is the most fascinating subject in the whole of Arda. **** ****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ **** ****

I had to go to the healing rooms and tell Elrond that I am carrying a new fëa. He said he knew already because Vilya identified me as being two fëa instead of one.  
 **** ****  
“I am most surprised though. I thought you did not want any more babies.”  
 **** ****  
“I did not,” I replied. “The only reason the Valar gave me a new body was because they wanted me to give birth to a reborn fëa who had asked especially for me to be his ada.” I took a bite of the peach I was carrying, noticing that Elrond looked at me as I did so. “According to Manwë the baby knew me very well and really liked me.”  
 **** ****  
“I suppose someone has to,” Elrond joked and then asked who I supposed the fëa might be.  
 **** ****  
“I cannot think that it could be anyone other than Ereinion.” I shrugged, not really caring; after all what will be, will be.  
 **** ****  
Elrond paled. “That will be worse than when you and Mel were born.” He gripped my shoulder as I nonchalantly ate my peach. “He might want to be High King again.”  
 **** ****  
“I was not allowed my kingdom back so I don’t see why he should be. If he starts demanding his kingly rights I will smack his bottom.” That told Elrond. **** ****

Elrond shook his head. “Get on the bed and let’s see how you are.” He felt my belly and twice told me to stop laughing because it tickled. “Everything feels all right.” He then took Vilya and said, ‘Ereinion’ while holding it over my belly. The stone within the ring glowed brighter and then dimmed again. “It’s Ereinion. Should be fun.” I noticed that Elrond did not seem very enthusiastic that my little ion was the former high king, but then I suppose he would not be in view of his history.  
 **** ****  
I jumped off the bed. “I thought I could go home and then come back just before he is born.” **** ****

“Good idea.” Elrond started writing on a sheet of paper. “This is the date that you should be back by. Preferably, you should arrive at least a couple of weeks before then. How I wish you had decent birthing facilities where you live. I could do with another holiday by the sea.”  
 **** ****  
“I am wondering what to name him. I am not calling him Ereinion, that’s for sure.” With that, I swanned out into the garden holding the piece of paper with the dates on. It would make a useful placemark in my new book. **** ****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ **** ****

I remembered one of the many visits Ereinion made to my court in The Greenwood. He brought Erestor with him and some simpering courtiers, whom I ignored for the most part. Elrond was Erestor’s aide so he came along too. Crabbyarse departed to Valinor and Círdan, my stormy and outrageously passionate lover, was on his way home to Mithlond. It seemed the time was ripe for me to renew my sexual acquaintance with the High King. **** ****

Ereinion always thought it was acceptable for himself to sleep with other elves but totally forbade Erestor, his partner in all but marriage, to do the same. Erestor and Elrond were also lovers, regardless of Ereinion’s instruction. Elrond was an absolute poodle where Erestor was concerned and loved every moment of it. **** ****

How I longed for the first day of his visit to be over so Ereinion and I could rut like tigers; we made plans to do so, but what do you think happened that night? **** ****

There I was, sharing a bath with the High King of all the elves, two kings together having a bit of naughty fun, when there was a hammering at my door. I reluctantly answered it and a breathless elf told me that Círdan was on his way back to Amon Lanc because his party had been attacked by orcs and there were many injured. **** ****

I ordered the servant to make the healing rooms ready and then ran into the bathroom. “Quick, get out of the bath. Círdan will be here any minute.” **** ****

Ereinion jumped out and quickly wrapped a towel around his body. “Oh shit!” He grabbed for his clothing. “Quick give me my circlet.” He put it on his head then left my chamber, head held high wearing only a towel and holding his clothing over his wet arm. He left his boots, so I gave them to a servant and he ran off after him.  
 **** ****  
After ordering a servant to remove any traces of water from the floor, I got back into the bath. About a quarter of an hour later the door to my rooms slammed open and Círdan stormed into the bathroom. “Right where is he?” he roared.  
 **** ****  
“Who?” I looked sweetly innocent and held my arms up for him to embrace me. “Get in the bath with me, meleth, and tell me what happened. I have set the healing wing to receive your warriors.” **** ****

“Where is Ereinion?” **** ****

“Stop shouting and tell me what happened. Were you actually attacked within the Greenwood?” I was concerned because if he had then we needed to do another seek and destroy double eradication patrol. **** ****

“Where is the little bastard? I will snap his neck.” I could see that Círdan was trying hard to resist my superbly hard arousal that poked through the bath bubbles.  
 **** ****  
“I should imagine he is in his rooms with Erestor. They look very much in love.” I beckoned him with my finger. “Get in with me, meleth. Let me massage your shoulders and take care of the huge tent in your leggings.”  
 **** ****  
He laughed, and about bloody time too. “Are you sure he hasn’t tried anything on with you?” **** ****

“I would discourage it most strongly if he did. I love only you.” He stepped into the bath and kissed me. After some more reassurance, which as a king I should not have had to do, we made love. Círdan is a far better lover than Ereinion and I hoped he could stay for some time.  
 **** ****  
After our lovemaking, I asked, “Are your warriors terribly injured?” Hoping, I am ashamed to admit, that they were, so he could stay longer. **** ****

“Five of them are going to take quite a while getting better, so it looks like I will be here for some time.” Círdan looked sad. “I feel so guilty that I am to profit by their misfortune.” He kissed me. “I get to enjoy your company for a while longer, melethen.”  
 **** ****  
“Let us dry off and go to our bed.” I gave him a saucy grin. “I am sure I want you again.”  
 **** ****  
The warriors were badly injured and it was lucky that Círdan was not even scratched considering how hurt they all were. He is pretty awesome in battle and built like a brick shit house; that is what ship building does for one. I should imagine that any orc would pick on my only one last and start on the easier warriors first. I have a painting of Círdan, which I look at when having sex with my hand. He has a sword in both hands, is dressed in full armour, and his hair is flying behind him as he runs towards the enemy, yelling for all he is worth. The painting is such a turn on that I had it positioned facing my bed, the perfect position for it.  
 **** ****  
Ereinion was surprised to see Círdan, but was effusive in expressing how happy he was to see him. He made much of fussing over Erestor, who was annoyed because his plans for Elrond that night had gone awry. His eyes shot daggers at me, but no one seemed to notice and, to be honest, no one cared what Erestor thought anyway. Círdan stayed until Ereinion went home. **** ****

Now I am wondering how to tell Ada Erestor who my baby is. I have already told Círdan and he is looking forward to it. He says that he cannot wait to let the little one see who his other ada is. **** ****

Oh well. Back to my new book. Cireolas is spending the morning with Mel and Glorfindel who are excellent with elflings. All elflings love them including my little one who positively adores his Uncle Mel. Indeed, the library here is covered with Mel and Glorfindel paintings. Recently, Elrond held a ‘my favourite warrior’ painting competition. Glorfindel stands tall in all of them and some of them have Mel standing beside him, much smaller and looking like a dark blob. I thought it was funny and so did Glorfindel. Mel threw a tantrum, as he always does when things do not go his way and so we ignored him.  
 **** ****  
Looking out of the window I can see that Círdan has arrived back from his horse ride with Celebrian and Galadriel. I wonder where Saelbeth is. Oh look, there he is with a bunch of flowers for Galadriel. She looks more the sort to eat them than put them in a vase.  
 **** ****  
Well I must finish off, there is something so animalistic and sexy about my elf after he has completed a horse ride; I would not miss it for the world. **** ****

**Part 21 – Thranduil’s blessing.** ********

Mel is recovered enough to walk around. Haldir is sitting up in bed and a lot more fun to talk to than my sulky brother is. More than once, I have heard Glorfindel take a sharp intake of breath and count to ten when Mel has thrown yet another spoilt brat tantrum. I expect Glorfindel will give Mel the spanking of his life when he is completely better. I hope so; Círdan would never tolerate such behaviour from me. Even when I thought I was dying I still minded my manners. He only makes himself look bad.  
 **** ****  
Haldir cannot walk yet as his legs are still healing, but he is cheerful and very happy because he is now going to be able to spend the rest of his life with Celeborn. Elrond keeps giving him nasty tea to drink to make him fall asleep but, other than that, he is fine. Celeborn is delighted and they are planning their wedding. The divorce has gone through, and guess what? Who do you think Saelbeth was before he was reborn? Only a certain female pig farmer from Gondolin. So they have met at long last. I hope Saelbeth thrashes her ass for being such a snob back then. **** ****

If you remember, when Galadriel found out her soul mate was a Gondolin pig farmer she rejected her as too common; now it seems she cannot get enough of Saelbeth. I would be very pissed off with Galadriel if I were him. It is not my business, however; and so I will not seek to influence the situation, also I cannot be bothered. Out of curiosity, I did ask Círdan how it was possible that Saelbeth was originally an elleth and changed sex to an ellon. He said anything is possible with the Valar and that it was his opinion that Galadriel was slowly turning into an ellon too. What an amusingly scurrilous elf he is and yet I adore him.  
 **** ****

Talking about adorable elves, little Cireolas is sitting on my knee and trying to catch a small ball hanging from a length of yarn that I tied to a tree branch overhead. He is squealing with delight as he catches hold of it and then lets it go so it swings about before he grabs it once again. Such a fun filled life my little ion has. **** ****

Cireolas has the finest blond hair I have ever felt; it feels like duck down between the fingers. I have put little baby braids in his hair, securing them with small blue jewels and tied everything back, otherwise, when he notices the braids, he tries to play with them. I want him to continue looking good until after lunch. He has sparkling dark blue eyes and sugar pink lips, little tiny fingers and little tiny toes. I cannot imagine that Ereinion will look as good. I should imagine that he will have dark hair though and will look completely different, so it is probably not fair to compare. **** ****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ **** ****

The day I first met Thranduil was a day of wonder and joy for me. I did not sit with Crabbyarse and support her during the birth; after her treacherous behaviour and her attempt to usurp my kingdom I did not want to be anywhere near the bitch. I still could not forget the execution of childhood friends even though they were traitors. The look in their eyes haunted me. Even now, reborn as I am, I still cannot forget. I feel no guilt because it was at Manwë’s command, but I truly wish Crabbyarse had not forced me into that position and that she had never been able to tempt them into their traitorous actions. **** ****

The healer brought little Thranduil to me during the night. He was barely ten minutes old and fast asleep. I was struck by how beautiful and tiny he was. There is no choosing between him and Cireolas as they were both equally beautiful and look alike. I felt a little bit silly talking to him and telling him that I was his ada and that I would name him Thranduil. Then I took him outside into the gardens, to the lawn in front of the lake. I removed my new born baby’s blankets and nightgown and held him up to the sky exhorting the Valar to bless and protect him for the rest of his life. Normally we would wait until a baby was a few days old, but the danger to the royal family was still tangible and I was advised to seek protection as soon as he was born. **** ****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ **** ****

Elbereth wove her stars in a circle around Thranduil, while a light breeze blew past indicating Manwë’s presence. “May Thranduil’s feet be swift and as stealthy as the wind,” I heard Manwë say on the light wind.  
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“May Thranduil always find light in the darkness,” the stars twinkled as Lady Elbereth blessed my little one.  
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Ulmo rose from the depths of the lake before us, surrounded by frolicking mer-children. He deposited a bag of pearls at my feet. “May Thranduil be able to hold his breath under water for long periods to escape danger and may he be as fleet as a mer-child.” **** ****

Aulë and Yavanna appeared next. Aulë touched my baby ion on the leg. “May Thranduil be possessed of great physical power and strength of character.”  
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Yavanna touched a tiny toe. “When Thranduil is king may he always be able to provide for his subjects.” I wondered what she meant by king, perhaps he would be one in Valinor. It was something to ponder.  
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Oromë appeared next. “May Thranduil have an affinity for animals that allows him to be as one of them when in danger.” **** ****

Vána stood beside Oromë and in her tinkling and happy voice she said, “May Thranduil gladden the hearts of all who come into contact him and may he be happy and joyful in his life.”  
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Irmo and Este appeared next. “May Thranduil have the happiest thoughts and dream the happiest dreams, even in times of great danger.” Lórien tweaked my ion’s toe and stepped back. **** ****

Este stroked Thranduil’s tiny head. “May Thranduil give and receive love and may his love shine like a beacon for the ones who hold his heart dear.” **** ****

Tulkas and Nessa appeared beside me. Tulkas spoke first. “May Thranduil be mighty in battle and in strategy. May he never fall in combat and fight with bravery and courage.” **** ****

Nessa took her turn. “May Thranduil be graceful and lithe, supple and strong, accurate, quick in wit and intelligence, and of supreme beauty in body and character.” **** ****

Nienna materialised in front of us. “May Thranduil always be possessed of great compassion and kindness. May he also be a great ruler in spite of his unpreparedness and the grief he shall surely endure.” I knew then that at one point I would die in the future. I carried on holding him because that was my role and pushed all thoughts of what I had just heard to the back of my mind.  
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Finally, Námo and Vairë appeared. “May Thranduil love the one who is to be reborn as much as he did before he died.” Yes, talk in riddles Námo, why don’t you, I thought at the time. Now I knew the meaning of the prophecy. **** ****

Vairë smiled and stroked Thranduil’s cheek. “May Thranduil weave an interesting and happy life, full of love and laughter, peace and happiness.” **** ****

They stood around and watched as Thranduil rose into the sky and the King and Queen of the Valar who appeared as giants in the sky, held him. Stars wove around him as he rose slightly above Manwë’s hand and I could hear his laughter. This is what it must have been like when my Ada held me up for the Valar to bless. I do not remember it, but he described what happened when I was old enough to understand.  
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The squeals of laughter continued for some time and I wondered if they were ever going to give him back. Eventually, he lay back in Elbereth’s hand and she kissed him, as they grew smaller. Thranduil was still laughing when Elbereth handed him back to me.  
 **** ****  
Nienna and Vairë took Thranduil from me and put some baby clothes on him. Not the little nightdress he wore when he was born, but silky soft clothing with little moving embroidered animals. I have never seen clothes like them. There was a baby fawn on the front, which was licking its paws before running about a bit and eventually snuggling close to its mother. There were other moving animals but it would take forever to describe it all. After putting the tiniest pair of soft suede bootees on him, they wrapped him in a blanket provided by Vána, which had flowers embroidered around the edges, moving as if swaying in the wind.  
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Estë took Thranduil and bid him goodbye. “Come and play in my garden when you sleep sweet one,” she whispered and then handed him to me, together with a small chest and a scroll.  
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I thanked the Valar, overawed that they had appeared in physical form in front of me when blessing Thranduil. Most babies are not so blessed by the Valar. Normally a star becomes larger and twinkles in the sky to show that they have heard and blessed the baby. Newborns, who are expected to live a life leading to greatness or who are from rulers’ families, rise up to meet the Valar; they hardly ever come down to meet the baby. When Cireolas was blessed, he rose up into the sky and no words were said in front of me; although Mel, who was blessed at the same time, having missed out on the opportunity when a baby, told me that the Valar spoke to them and wished nearly the same things upon them as they did Thranduil. Perhaps it was necessary they do it the way they did, so that I would die knowing that my ion would become King and that he and the kingdom would be safe. Perhaps they needed to prepare me for my own death. **** ****

“Lord Námo?” I asked as he kissed Thranduil’s cheek. “How long do I have until I enter your Halls?” I could not say the word, ‘die’ as I was becoming upset. **** ****

“You have many, many years before you come to live with me. You will be killed in battle. I will take you just before the final blows so that you feel no pain. I promise you that, to soften the knowledge that one day you will come to live with me and so that you continue to fight bravely.” He looked as though he wished I did not have to know. **** ****

“Thank you.” I said softly, my voice near to breaking.  
 **** ****  
Manwë put his hand on my shoulder. “You are too warlike. We made you that way because you need to be so in this age. When the new age comes in, it will be a time of peace and your reason for living will be fulfilled.”  
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“I still do not want to die.” I said, holding my little ion close as if he might hear the exchange and become upset.  
 **** ****  
Námo smiled. “When you are in the Halls, we will have a role for you there too and when it is completed you will be reborn. But none of this will happen for many years yet.”  
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“What of Thranduil? When I am reborn will he know me or reject me?” I needed reassurance. Having just met my ion, I could not bear to one day be parted from him.  
 **** ****  
“He will very much desire your company, I can promise you that. Now do not ponder on this or else you will drive yourself mad and then be of no use to anyone.” Manwë smiled at me. “Cheer up; it is not for an extremely long time. You have much living to do before we call you to be with us.” **** ****

I had no choice but to put it out of my mind. I could not function if I did not and so I watched as they departed. I took my little ion back into the house with the gifts piled into a blanket, which I held at the corners.  
 **** ****  
My advisors had watched from a window and they saw nothing except Thranduil rising into the sky. They were the witnesses that the blessing had been carried out and so it was chronicled in the Elven Chronicles of Amon Lanc that Crown Prince Thranduil was blessed by the Valar. I did not tell them of the warning of my own death. I would not have them counting time on my behalf. **** ****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
 **** ****  
Círdan is here, and he has sat down beside me and taken Cireolas into his arms from me. He went to the market this morning and would not let me go with him because he wanted to buy me a gift. In fact, he bought several gifts for me and it is not even my begetting day. He did so because he loves me, that is as good a reason as any, I would say. According to him, a couple of the gifts we can use together, whatever that means. He has also bought Cireolas some toys. My lucky little boy now has a musical box that plays music when the key is wound, with a little bear that dances on the top when it is playing. He also received a wooden duck, to float in the bath, and a spinning top which he is probably too little to use properly. **** ****

Círdan insisted that I open one special present before all the others, which could wait until we went back to our rooms. It is a book, with the title: Armour Etiquette on the Battlefield during the Wars of Beleriand. I hope Círdan does not think he is getting sex tonight, how can he compete against such a wonderful book?  
 **** ****

**Part 22 – Erestor’s revenge.**  
 ********

We had such a good night last night, sort of. Círdan hid my book, ‘Armour Etiquette on the Battlefield during the Wars of Beleriand’, and would not give it back until we had made love. He fixed my hands above my head and tied my ankles to the side arms of the chair I was sitting in. My legs splayed apart, revealing me in all my wanton glory. Círdan nearly lost all control, as I would expect him to when confronted with such a lovely vision. Because I was rather verbal about what he should do next he gagged me. When I tried to shift away from a rather intimidating, large phallus he blindfolded me and then said that I WOULD BE ALL RIGHT!!!! ********

THEN I FOUND OUT THAT HE HAD ALLOWED SOMEONE TO WATCH US!!!!!  
 **** ****  
It seems that Celebrían has started a writing group, and while exploration of all subjects was at first encouraged, they fell very quickly into writing slash. I can understand why they would do this; who would not want to watch two hot male elves fucking each other? Anyway, that is beside the point. They have a way of doing things here, because even a slash writing Ladies group observes an etiquette of sorts, and I am all for that! **** ****

The slash writers’ etiquette: a gift or toy is presented to the couple whom the writer would like to watch in action. The couple reaches an agreement with the writer and she is allowed to observe, if she remains hidden, so that the couple do not lose any of their spontaneity while in action. At no point does the elleth join the couple, nor does she put herself in the story. All names are changed, so that identities are not immediately apparent. I do not remember agreeing to any of this and would not have allowed it to proceed. For me, sex is a private thing. I cannot even look at the brazen elleth who watched us make love as my face flushes red every time I see her.  
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The ellith have written about ordinary sex until it is coming out of their ears. Now they are interested in going further. I have read some of the stories and a favourite theme is one in which an elf is tied to metal rings, fixed into the wall, and he is whipped with a leather belt or strips, while trying to keep a phallus up his arse. Of course, the elf screams the place down; however, when the elf wielding the whip stops, he says, “Master, why did you stop? Punish me harder.” I know of only two elves who are weird enough to do shit like that. I wonder if the ellith who write about such things know what it feels like to be whipped? It has happened to me only once, and that was when I was Oropher. I was totally pissed out of my brains when Erestor caught me in bed with Ereinion. It bloody hurt; how anyone can enjoy being whipped, I do not know. **** ****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ **** ****

I was on an official visit to Lindon with Alatáriël. She brought her maid lover along and I was at quite a loose end. Círdan was not yet my lover; indeed we had not even shared our first kiss. My only recourse was to hope that Ereinion and Erestor were going through one of their sulking with each other spats and that I could have the high king all to myself. Ereinion and Erestor would have these incredibly lovey-dovey periods, where they only existed for each other, and then they would fight like cat and dog and actively plot stupid things to make the other look ridiculous. One afternoon, shortly after we arrived, I watched Ereinion carefully slide a raw egg into Erestor’s tea. The royal court had adopted the human fashion of drinking tea with a small amount of milk in to make it cloudy and a caramel colour. Erestor, who was not paying attention at the time, did not see the egg and ran into the bathroom to vomit when he took a mouthful of gloopy white. It would have been terribly bad form to accuse the king of contaminating his food and so Erestor could say nothing. **** ****

“Are you all right, Erestor?” Ereinion asked full of concern. “Do you need to see the healers?”  
 **** ****  
Sensing his chance to be with Elrond, Erestor said that he thought that he did need to see a healer and asked that Elrond accompany him, in case he was ill on the way. Ereinion looked at one of the foot-elves. “Accompany Lord Erestor to the healers.” **** ****

There was nothing Erestor could do. He asked permission to leave the table and left the room.  
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We sat there looking at one another until Ereinion broke the silence. “Elrond.”  
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“Yes, Your Majesty?” Poor Elrond, he jumped so high he nearly hit the ceiling. **** ****

“I am most desirous that King Oropher should sample some of our new wine. If it suits his palette perhaps we can arrange for a gift of two hundred bottles to be sent to the Greenwood ahead of his journey back.” Ereinion smiled at me and rose from his chair. I followed suit.  
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“A most generous gift, Your Majesty.” I inclined my head slightly as a king does when in the company of a high king. **** ****

Elrond took the key to the wine cellars out of his pocket. “Your Majesties, if you would please come with me.” He opened the door and we walked through, followed by him. **** ****

It all seems very formal and normally Ereinion only observed the barest minimum of etiquette; however, he was going through a particularly irritating time with Erestor and stepped up the formalities with Elrond because he suspected very strongly that he was Erestor’s bit on the side.  
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We walked to the wine cellar and Elrond let us in. “You can leave now, Elrond. There is a small scroll in my bedside table that I would have you copy out, so that it is ready by tonight for the reading pleasure of King Oropher.”  
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Elrond answered that it would be done, bowed, and left the room.  
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Ereinion locked the door, gave me the most lascivious smile and suggested that I remove my clothing. We undressed each other and I felt the heat of his body in his closeness and sighed with pleasure. We made love and it was good. Our bodies joined; skin slid against skin as we moved in unison, knowing just where to touch, and reveling in the sensations welling up in our hard muscled bodies. After drinking prodigious amounts of wine along the way, I remember holding Ereinion down and putting a freshly opened bottle of wine in his entrance. Of course, we were so drunk by this time that all sexual etiquette and niceties had flown out of the window. **** ****

“Valar! What is that?” Ereinion howled with laughter. “What are you stuffing up my arse?” Holding on to the edge of the table, he wiggled his bottom until I slapped one of his butt cheeks.  
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“A bottle of wine.” I laughed and tipped it up slightly so some of the wine went into him.  
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“Use more oil; see if you can get it in all the way.” Ereinion giggled. “Boring old Erestor won’t do anything like this with me.”  
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I pushed the bottle it in some more and then tipped it up, using the last of the oil as I did. “Oropher, what are you doing to me?” Ereinion laughed hysterically. “Are you filling me up with wine?” **** ****

“Well it is not water.” I laughed and watched as the last of the wine disappeared from the bottle and into the high king. **** ****

“Drink from me.” Ereinion giggled and wiggled his ass. I pulled the bottle out, quickly oiled myself from the lamp on the sill and entered him instead. I took him hard and he loved it. Holding onto his shoulder with one hand and his hip with the other, I thrust powerfully into him and did not hold back. My hand left his hip and I took hold of his long dark hair, pulling on it as I thrust in and out. He yelled loudly as he came. **** ****

“I am not finished yet.” I said breathlessly to him as I continued to thrust into his pliant and relaxed body. **** ****

“That was fucking great,” Ereinion panted. **** ****

“Shut up.” I dug my fingers into his hips and came, thrusting savagely until I was spent. “Fuck me. That was good.” **** ****

I pulled out and Ereinion held the bottle up to his ass to let the wine fall back into it. Then, he corked it and set it aside on the table. I took him in my arms and kissed him. “I needed that. It has been so long.” We kissed some more and then put our clothes back on. Carrying the used bottle with us, we went back to Ereinion’s room. We could hardly walk we were so drunk. Somehow, we were able to get back and we undressed and flopped into bed.  
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I was vaguely aware of someone in the room as I slept next to Ereinion. I saw drops of fluid dripping from a small bottle held above the high king’s mouth. Ereinion swallowed and I saw who it was who bent over him. It was only Erestor, I thought, and then went back to sleep. I should have panicked, when shortly after I felt myself being hauled from the bed. I was so drunk I could do nothing about it. Erestor and Elrond laid me across a table, on my front, and tied my arms to the table legs and then my feet. Erestor forced me to drink a fluid and I thought it might kill me, knowing how much he detested me.  
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“Wake up you little shit.” Erestor pulled my hair and whacked my head off the table. I was coming too very quickly. **** ****

“Fuck off, Erestor. You are in so much trouble when Ereinion hears about this.” Erestor stood in tight black leather leggings and his hardness was very well defined in the soft suppleness. For a moment, I had lewd thoughts about him and then I saw Elrond. He smiled at me and I knew that he would not be my ally. “How are you both going to explain this?” I asked. **** ****

I yelped. The whip in Erestor’s hand swung in the air and he hit it against my buttocks as hard as he could. “That is what we do to bad kings who sleep with those they are not supposed to.” **** ****

“You sleep with Elrond.” I yelled, hoping that Ereinion would wake up, but in my heart I knew he was drugged.  
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“It hardly matters what I do.” The whip slashed across my ass and I yelled again. It was so incredibly painful.  
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Erestor whipped me across the ass, twenty more times. He made me count them, the bastard, and then went over to Elrond and kissed him hard on the mouth. By this time, my elleth type feelings had surfaced and I felt rather sorry for myself. Tears escaped from my eyes, even though I tried to stop them. I did not give Erestor the satisfaction of crying out, even though I was in agonizing pain. I have fought orcs, been horribly injured by a troll and have endured other horrific experiences, but only a couple of them were more painful than having my ass whipped. I think there are few things as painful as being whipped and Erestor is a master at whipping. It is a constant amazement to me now that he is so unlike the impetuous double-standard bastard that he used to be.  
 **** ****

They turned me over. To do this, they release a limb and tied it to the opposite table leg, then released the other corresponding limb and tied that to the side the other had come from. They did they same to my arms and legs. **** ****

“Look at him. He is crying like an elleth.” Erestor gently ran the strands of the whip along my naked body. I said nothing. I did not want to inflame the insane bastard. I must record here though, that I was not crying like an elleth; Erestor was merely taunting me. My eyes were wet, but at no time was I actively crying.  
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Elrond handed a small box to my tormentor and he grinned evilly. He has also changed for the better. I suppose that time has mellowed him; although, he was never as bad as Erestor. When I told Elrond recently that I remembered the whipping in Ereinion’s bedroom, he was horrified and apologised profusely. He seemed upset and I assured him that it did not matter. He had asked why I used to wear a small gold stud in my cock and I told him. It seems he had forgotten; it happened thousands of years ago, so I suppose we can indulge him a little bit with his lack of memory.  
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The box contained a piercing kit. Erestor lifted my cock up and felt for the skin underneath the head. Taking a large, thick needle, he heated it over a flame and pushed it through. I remember the skin sizzling because the needle was so hot. I gritted my teeth because I would not give him the satisfaction of hearing me call out. He raised his eyebrows and smiled, then pushed a small gold stud through where the needle passed. “I was going to cane you one hundred times and make you count them as you did to me when you spanked me as an elfling, but this is better. This is my revenge, Oropher.” **** ****

“I will kill you,” I hissed at him. “And I will take this stupid stud out.” The smell of my burnt flesh made me feel quite nauseous.  
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“No you won’t. You will not remember and you will not be able to remove the stud. It has a powerful enchantment woven around it. Once in place the stud can never be removed, unless you cut through the skin. You will wear it forever; you are hardly going to wop your cock out for the healers to slice through it, are you? You will think Ereinion put it there and you will think that he whipped you as well in some hazy session that you cannot really remember and would rather forget.” I wanted to beat his smirking face to a bloody pulp. I am glad I did not, because he would not have been my ada in this life, if I had. **** ****

Erestor forced some liquid between my lips and before I passed out I saw him take a swig from the bottle into which Ereinion had emptied the wine from his arse. He gave it to Elrond, who also took a large swig, and I smiled. I knew something they did not and it was worth the whipping to see Erestor drink wine that had my come in it. **** ****

“You have nothing to smile about,” Erestor admonished. I smiled wider, so much so I nearly laughed. “What?” he asked. “Why are you smiling?” At that point, the drug he forced between my lips worked and I fell unconscious.  
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I woke up in my own bed, in pain and stinking of wine. Ereinion sat beside me. “I am so sorry,” he said. “Things went too far in the bedroom and I whipped you. I was so drunk I do not even remember it. Erestor said that he found the whip in my hand as I was about to deliver another blow and that I was so drunk he had to get the healers to treat me. He said I whipped you until you passed out. I am so very sorry. You must believe me; I have never whipped a lover before. I do not even know how I could have done something so dreadful to you.”  
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“I do not remember any of it,” I said and tried to feel my injuries. My ass was sore and my cock was throbbing in pain. “A stud?” I looked at Ereinion and he looked incredibly ashamed and kept apologising.  
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“The healers have given you some cream that you have to use. They say that there was a lot of force behind the blows, as if I delivered them in anger. None of it makes any sense.” Ereinion buried his head in his hands. “I am so sorry. Luckily, Erestor and Elrond came in and stopped me or else it could have been worse. I cannot believe I did something so awful to you.” **** ****

I am a forgiving elf and I could sense his pain. I put my arms around him and kissed his cheek. “I forgive you, but from now on we have to be careful not to drink so much.”  
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I healed quickly and I thanked Erestor and Elrond for helping me. Both of them smirked and I assumed at the time that they were still amused at the circumstances in which they found me. Ereinion felt that he had to give me the best time ever after the incident. We made love just about everywhere we could, much to the chagrin of Erestor, who did not dare repeat his performance. By the end of the visit, I wondered if Ereinion really could have whipped me because it was so against his nature to hurt anyone deliberately. He sometimes spanked Erestor if he was naughty, but never left marks that would take days to heal, nor did he do it as part of their sex. It was most odd. I enjoyed the rest of the visit and went home after promising to return the next year, which I did.  
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Some months after arriving home, I received a private package from Ereinion. His memory had returned and he now knew that he was not the one who whipped me. He enclosed a bottle of antidote that he urged me to drink. Elrond and Erestor had argued. In a moment of spite, Elrond had tipped the antidote into Ereinion’s drink. He knew that when Ereinion remembered what had happened he would be in trouble too, but it would be much worse for Erestor. Ereinion described how he had spanked Erestor, one hundred times every night for two weeks as a punishment and how he had pierced both his nipples and his cock and put rings in them. I thought that was a bit severe but when I took the antidote I remembered fully and thought it served the bastard right. **** ****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ **** ****

I am philosophical about it, and I realise that my Ada is not the elf I knew when I was Oropher. In fact, I do not even think of him as the same person, he is so changed. He seems the diametric opposite of the elf he once was. Elrond has definitely changed. He is one of the most powerful rulers I have ever met and would never think of mistreating anyone. He has compassion and a fairness now that makes him a truly great elf. Erestor was still young then and had not matured fully; Elrond was in the thrall of extreme sexual attraction and was willing to be led anywhere by my wicked ada. Neither should have acted the way they did, but no experience is invalid and maybe their awfulness, in some way, contributed to making them the great elves they are today. Erestor and I have never discussed what happened then and we do not want to; it is important to us both that our past dislikes are not continued into this lifetime. **** ****

Back to the present. Círdan put my book on etiquette on the bedside table. I was all trussed up in the chair, so obviously I could not run over and read it. However, as soon as he untied me, I ran across the room and picked it up before getting into bed. “You are not getting anymore sex for being so naughty,” I told him. From across the room I thought I heard a giggle, which I ignored. Círdan retrieved Cireolas’s cot from behind the screen and said goodnight to the slash writing elleth, whom he had secreted behind the door. **** ****

We could not argue because I did not want to wake my sweet little ion and so I hissed at Círdan that he was in trouble the next morning. He smirked and said it was something to look forward to, and then he turned over and went to sleep. **** ****

After a while, I stopped reading and blew out the candle. I settled down in bed and snuggled up to my only one. “Bugger off,” he giggled.  
 **** ****  
“No,” I replied in the seemingly petulant tone that always turns him on. Well, just about anything that I do or say turns him on, so it is academic really. **** ****

He turned over, put his arms around me, and gave me a kiss. “If we are quiet, meleth?” **** ****

He drew his legs up and I pushed into him. “Mmmmmmmmmmmmm…”

 

********


	9. Making love after arguments, My Official Title, Impressing My Mad-as-a-Hatter Parents.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ereolas wants to horsewhip a servant. He relates to Haldir just how mad his parents were and tells how he met Cirdan. Haldir is getting better.

 

 

 

 

**Making love after arguments.**  
  
  
  
  
It had to happen at some point. We have kept our tempers reined in because we are not at home. I should not have been surprised at the inevitable explosion.  
  
  
  
The argument built up over several days. At first it started with small niggles and annoyances, then the criticisms started. We both indulged in eroding each other’s good tempers and we are both to blame. The final straw was when Círdan snatched my book about Gondolinian greenhouse cleaning etiquette, a marvellous read, and shredded it. He said I spent so much time reading that I was ignoring our normal daily life. I exploded with rage and yelled all manner of insults at him. He sneered and turned to walk away. I reached for his hair and hacked his long braid off in one swift move, just above the shoulder, with my dagger.  
  
  
  
I have never seen my only one so angry. He stood like a bull about to charge as I looked at the hank of hair in my hand. “I am sorry.” I tried to hand the hair to him and he violently pushed my hand away.  
  
  
  
“I should kill you for that,” he roared and charged at me. Unfortunately for him, he did not connect. He skidded on the warg skin rug, fell over and landed heavily on his side. Apparently, that was my fault because I moved out of the way. What did he think I would do? “How dare you cut my hair off. You are in so much trouble now.”  
  
  
  
“You tore my book to pieces. I had every right to cut your hair.” I smirked and enjoyed watching him turn red with anger. He is damnably sexy when he does that, even with his new haircut.  
  
  
  
“See this?” He held up a scroll I was reading earlier in the day. I tried to protest; I really did. “Shut up! Don’t even try and stop me. Look.” He shredded the scroll with his dagger and smirked. “If you cannot respect what is mine, then I cannot respect what is yours.”  
  
  
  
“That was not my scroll. It was yours.” The look of surprise and horrified realisation on his face was worth all the mithril in the mines of Moria. “You know, the one where you spent days transcribing land elevations around Mithlond?” I smirked. I should not have done because it was very naughty of me. “I hope you did not throw the original measurements away.” I knew he had destroyed the only evidence of months of work, saying it would never be needed again. Poor Círdan; however, we were in the middle of an argument and all is permitted.  
  
  
  
Círdan’s eyes narrowed. “You think you are so clever.” I agreed with a wide smile, which sent him off into an even more furious rage.  
  
  
  
We are as bad as one another. Neither of us considered the effect our harsh exchange of words would have upon us when all was peaceful once more. I am glad Cireolas was with my adas, although we would not have argued in front of him and had deliberately held ourselves back on several occasions.  
  
  
  
We stormed around, shouting and threatening one another. At one point Círdan threatened to destroy everything I owned.  
  
  
  
“Why don’t you take my fucking life as well, you bastard? It won’t be the first time,” I yelled at the top of my voice. Círdan looked defeated and I stood breathing heavily, glaring at him. “I am sorry.”  
  
  
  
“That was low.” He looked upset. Secretly, I smirked. “I did not withhold the note deliberately so that you would go into battle at the wrong time and be killed. I love you. I would never wittingly hurt you.”  
  
  
  
I walked up to him carefully, in case he did not see that the argument should end at that point, and I tentatively put my arms around him. “I am sorry, I did not mean it.” He said nothing. I kissed his lips softly. “I love you too.” He put his head on my shoulder, as if exhausted, and embraced me.  
  
  
  
“Let us lay together for a while so we can calm down.” Círdan moved toward the bed and led me by the hand. We lay together, arms around each other and occasionally kissing; we were too fragile to do any more and needed the quiet stillness to recover our good nature and reach a state of peace.  
  
  
  
“Can we talk without losing our tempers?” Círdan said softly. I bit back the witty retort and nodded. “I am not criticising your reading habits except that I am feeling left out. You even took a book to breakfast and when I tried to talk to you all I got was that you were trying to read, or single syllable answers.” He stroked my face and looked so mournful and sad that I instantly fell for him all over again. “When I am with you, I want to be with you. I can be in the same room as you and feel totally alone because you are reading.”  
  
  
  
“I did not know the library here would be so well stocked. I wanted to read as much as I could before leaving.” I kissed Círdan lightly on the lips. “I have had the most awful time lately and the books meant that I could be somewhere else other than here. I want to go home and I do not want to be pregnant either.”  
  
  
  
Círdan stroked the side of my face. “I would rather you did not give birth to Ereinion but we have no control over that. It is etiquette that we stay until Haldir recovers, now that he is to be the Lord of Lothlórien’s new consort.”  
  
  
  
I snuggled in to my love and felt him grip me tighter. “Why do we always do this?”  
  
  
  
He grinned. “Because we love the making up afterwards?”  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
I remember when I was King Oropher and the stormy arguments Círdan and I indulged in back then. It seemed that neither of us could stay in the same room without arguing like cat and dog after five minutes. We were too alike and the same things irritated us about each other. We enjoyed the making up afterwards and I am sure that we must have deliberately provoked one another so that we could adore one another in that special way two elves do when they want to show each other how much they love them. Sex after an argument is so carefully done and such an earnest demonstration of continuing love that it is akin to the first time the couple joins, where everything has to be perfect in expression.  
  
  
  
I remember the first time we made love and it was wonderful; well, the lead up to it was horrid but the lovemaking itself was exceptional. My only previous experience of male sex was with Ereinion, who was extremely good at it, but Círdan was a million times better and more gifted. Círdan had kissed me on the balcony earlier in the day and I was mesmerised, thanking the Valar his visit was not a short one. I felt the connection instantly and so did he. “I knew it as soon as I saw you,” he said and looked entranced.  
  
  
  
“I felt your eyes strip me naked and bare so that my innermost self was revealed to your eyes.” I flushed, as I was still relatively young and not as experienced as he was. “I did not know where to look and then I realised that it did not matter where I looked, you could still see me.”  
  
  
  
He smiled. “Look in my eyes and see me.” I looked and saw his love for me, a fierce, bright flame of desire set against the deep, dark-blue depths of passion. I wondered how it was possible to love when one has only met that day and yet I felt it too.  
  
  
  
“We are soul mates and you are married,” Círdan said ruefully. “It is a shame, as I desire more than anything to make you mine.”  
  
  
  
“I am separated and my wife has a lover in her own rooms. We are letting our subjects become used to the situation before announcing our divorce, if we can get one.” I looked at Círdan and felt the loss in my heart as I realised that he was an honourable elf and his intention of making love to me was unlikely to be fulfilled because I was still married. Even if we divorced the situation might stay the same.  
  
  
  
“I want you, but I would not break a marriage, even though the queen is not faithful to you. I wonder what can be done. A kiss is one thing but making love to you is another.” He must have felt my loneliness, my face certainly expressed it, but he let go of me anyway. He was right and so I walked from the balcony and back into the Hall of Thrones.  
  
  
  
“It is nearly time for dinner, Lord Círdan.” I opened the nearest door to leave. “I will see you in the Hall of Queenly delights.”  
  
  
  
Walking swiftly to my rooms, I replayed the whole conversation in my head. What was Círdan playing at, I wondered. He led me on and then refused me at the last post. My face was hot and red. I was embarrassed at revealing my desire and angry; how dare he do that to me. I wanted him to go home but he was at the beginning of his stay and etiquette demanded that I be a good host and make his stay enjoyable.  
  
  
  
I ran a bath and climbed in, wondering why my life could not be my own and feeling sorry for myself in my extreme loneliness. One can be surrounded by people and still endure a vast aching emptiness in one’s fëa because a special elf is not present. I wanted to curl up and go to sleep forever, but I could not as I had to be a good host and play the game as it was always done.  
  
  
  
The bathwater was purple with foaming oils that smelled of lavender and violets. If anything, I would look and smell good whilst carrying out the onerous duty of entertaining the elf who would play so callously with my heart. My head dipped under the water and I washed my hair. I thought I heard the door open but I could not be sure. In any case, I was sure it was a servant laying out my clothing for dinner; therefore I did not pay attention to it.  
  
  
  
I continued to wash and poured a jug of warm water over my head before squeezing the water out of my hair. Then I stepped up out of the pool that was my bath. I reached for the towel and it was not there. Feeling most irritated, I opened my eyes and saw Círdan standing in front of me with the towel.  
  
  
  
“I was going to wrap it around you but I thought that I would look for one more second.” Círdan smiled apologetically.  
  
  
  
“What do you want, Lord Círdan?” I asked abruptly.  
  
  
  
“I came to apologise.” He wrapped the towel around my body and I shook myself from his hands.  
  
  
  
I glared at him. “Have you come to lead me on again, so that I run from you feeling embarrassed and humiliated?”  
  
  
  
He walked forward. “No, I have come to apologise. I was wrong to take the high moral ground when there is not one to take.”  
  
  
  
“Thank you for your apology, Lord Círdan. Now, I would like you to go.” I turned away and heard him walk towards the door.  
  
  
  
I gave a heavy sigh and walked into the bedroom to sit down in my favourite chair, my chin cupped in my hand and feet balanced on the edge. I was overwhelmingly lonely, but what choice did I have except to send him away to protect myself? My life was not my own and I was intensely unhappy.  
  
  
  
“No, I will not go.” Strong fingers lifted my chin. “Look at me, Oropher. You are my soul mate. I was wrong and I wish I had not upset you, but it is done. I am not going to go.”  
  
  
  
I stood up, “Then I will go.” I knew not where but I could not be hurt anymore, of that I was certain.  
  
  
  
As I turned away, he pulled the edge of the towel and it fell away. He took me in his arms and kissed me. “At least let us start again and this time know that I would have you as mine.” Círdan kissed me again.  
  
  
  
“For how long, Lord Círdan? Until you have another moral attack? Do you even know what it is like being me and having no one?” There, I had revealed myself some more without intending to. I broke free and he pulled me straight back to him. “Let me go. You will not play with my heart.” I struggled and he held me fast. He held me until I stopped struggling and then sat on my bed, pulling me down with him.  
  
  
  
“I am sorry I hurt you.” He pulled the dressing gown from the chair and draped it around my shoulders. “Put this on so you do not get cold. I do not know what to say so that you will believe me, but you can be lonely for the rest of your life or you can have the one who was always meant to be with you. I would hope you would choose me over loneliness.”  
  
  
  
I sat looking at the floor, my feet on the edge of the mattress and my knees under my chin; my elleth type feelings tried to surface but I forcefully suppressed them. I watched with an air of detachment as Círdan removed his boots and his jacket. He kissed me on the cheek and then removed his shirt and leggings. He was not wearing a loincloth, which made me smile. While kissing me again he pulled the dressing gown from my shoulders. “Let me make you mine and I will be yours.”  
  
  
  
“I do not trust you, Lord Círdan.” I said sadly. So badly, I wanted to trust him and feel his closeness. I had slept many years on my own and I desperately wanted the closeness that he offered but I could not allow him to make a fool of me.  
  
  
  
Círdan gathered all his clothing together and I thought that he about to dress and leave but instead he opened the window and threw it all out onto the grass below. “There. I cannot leave until someone gives my clothing back. I am going to have to keep warm in your bed, so you might as well stop being so formal and call me Círdan again. My clothing is under your window and so whoever picks it up will suspect that we are lovers anyway.” He sat beside me and smiled. “I would keep you warm and make love to you and have you as mine forever and ever because you are my soul mate and we are meant to be together.”  
  
  
  
It was so hard to resist him especially as the attraction was becoming unbearable. My fëa was reaching out to him and pulling my body along with it. We kissed and touched one another, our fingers exploring and our tongues tasting. It was good to feel the warmth of another body and I relished each groan as I stroked the places that I somehow knew would have him writhing with pleasure. “Lay on your back, meleth.” I did as he asked and I felt my arousal engulfed by his hot, wet mouth.  
  
  
  
He licked and sucked. Long sweeps of his tongue from the base to the tip had me moaning with delight. Through half-lidded eyes I watched his head moving up and down until I came. Afterwards, I insisted on returning the favour and brought him to completion. Looking up, I could see his face relax and he smiled wide. “It has been a long time for me too.” What did I care? I was only considering how I felt; not that I am selfish or anything but no sex for years and years does tend to make one rather focused upon one’s own needs.  
  
  
  
Kneeling above him, I asked if he had any oil and he pulled a small vial out of his pocket. “Give it to me,” I said and put my hand out.  
  
  
He flipped me over on to my back and told me that it was his oil and he would use it first. He is still like that now. We each carry oil I our pockets and it is a race to see who can get it out the fastest. He coated his fingers and pushed them into me, stroking my deep source of secret pleasure. “Do you like that?” he asked. I nodded that I did. He pushed his oiled arousal into me. “This is better.” That made me laugh and I pulled his shoulders down so I could kiss him.  
  
  
  
I came quickly and afterwards I took him; balance is everything in a relationship. It felt good and I loved it, not wanting it to end as I was enjoying myself so much. We lay together in each other’s arms and fell asleep until it was time for dinner. Later that night, we went back to my room and loved one another again. I was his forever and he was mine; of that I now had no doubt.  
  
  
  
Of the many love tokens, that he gave to me there was a ring that belonged to one whom he said was his sister. It was his last remembrance of her and he bade me keep it because I would be his forever. I took the wedding ring off my index finger and replaced it with the ring Círdan gave me. He was overawed, kissing my lips many times, and telling me how much he adored me. Our lovemaking afterwards was particularly sweet. In the end, he went back to Mithlond, but I knew he would return and that I would visit him. Even though we were apart, we would always be together.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Círdan has left the room, saying that he will be back soon. Meanwhile, Erestor and Legolas have brought Cireolas back. He has a new toy. It is a big lobster that when wound up walks along the floor. According to know-it-all Erestor, there is a big spring inside, which tightens when the winding key is used, and the walking happens when the spring relaxes. I do not completely understand and I have never seen anything like it. Most fascinating!  
  
  
  
Well, it is dinnertime soon and according to Legolas, Haldir will be there. He is much better now and using crutches. I am so happy that he is getting better because it means that going home is now in sight. Mel went to dinner for the first time two days ago and Glorfindel was as attentive as ever. I suspect they have been spending a lot of their time in bed; both have that happy, sated glow. They are very lovey-dovey at the moment and so I suspect that the time spent together has done them good.  
  
  
  
I have a present. It was to be for my birthday in a couple of day’s time but Círdan wants me to have it early. Hurrah! I am beside myself with joy. “The Etiquette of Alqualondëan Goat Husbandry with Special Reference to Opening Gambits of Conversation between Breeders.” It does not get any better than this.  
  
  
  
  
  
 **My Official Title**  
  
  
  
  
I was sitting under the tree with my incredibly beautiful ion, Cireolas, when I saw Haldir coming out of the house. He still uses crutches and looks as though he has been through the wringer a bit. Happily, a servant was passing and so I ordered him to direct Haldir my way and bring some suitable cushions for him to sit on. I then told him that he was to arrange for some refreshments. He went off, not in the best of temper, which he did not dare display to me, and informed Haldir that I desired his presence. Haldir walked over slowly and by the time he arrived at the tree, some of the servants had placed the cushions down and left.  
  
  
  
“Shall I help you sit, or can you do it yourself?” I asked.  
  
  
  
“If you do not mind, I would appreciate some help.” I let him balance on me as he sat down. He leaned back onto the cushions before giving me a smile. “It is better than being in bed.”  
  
  
  
“Are you still in pain?” I asked, hoping he would say he was not and about to get out of crutches, so I could go home.  
  
  
  
“Every step feels as if I am walking on glass and I still have shooting pains along my legs. Elrond says it will take several weeks to heal because the nerves need to regenerate.” Haldir looked depressed. “I have told Celeborn that I will not marry him until I can walk without sticks. He is not very happy but it gives me something to work towards.”  
  
  
  
The servant, the one with the foul temper, delivered a tray of tea and some sandwiches and cakes. He slammed the tray down, making the pot judder and I felt a strong urge to horsewhip him, but this was not my realm and so I gave him the sharp edge of my tongue instead.  
  
  
  
Haldir grinned. “You are just like Oropher.”  
  
  
  
“I am more like him every day, my friend.” Haldir idolised Oropher and it was because of his interest that we became such fast friends.  
  
  
  
“Yes, you would have never cut Círdan’s hair off when you had your old body. You would not have dared.” Haldir poured some tea out; I noticed that his hands shook.  
  
  
  
“Círdan says that he prefers me now.” I picked up a small bone china teacup and Cireolas started to cry. Damn him! The little swine always cries for milk when I have a drink. He is just like Círdan. Opening the front of my shirt, I plugged the little brat onto my nipple and continued drinking from my cup. “I expect this little one will fight me for cake before he is much older.”  
  
  
  
“Send him to my school if he does.” Haldir laughed and it was good to see him do so.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
I remember when I was Oropher and a small elfling. Both my parents were formidable and imperious elves who expected total obedience to their absolute rule. I was probably the only one not scared of them. They were simply Ada and Nana.  
  
  
  
My ada, who was a silver piece short of a gold one, would walk around with a huge whip in his hands and employ it on any elf for the least infraction, real or otherwise. Being ugly, or his definition of it, could result in execution and many elves, realising they did not meet his crazed criteria, sailed early and before their time.  
  
  
  
My nana eventually put a halt to his campaign when her bottom wiper servant fled after accidently singeing one of her eyebrows over a candle flame. Nana went into the sitting room and told Ada to stop his nonsense. He replied, “All right then.”  
  
  
  
That is all it took for him to stop. Why did she not do it before I wonder?  
  
  
  
I remember being taken to a council meeting with him. I ran into my parents’ bedroom with my small kitten, who I named Killer. Ada swung me around and told me what a great ion I was, before giving me a huge hug. He showed me a tiny set of robes. “You are going to be a big, council meeting prince today and these are the clothes that one has to wear.” He put the robes on me and placed me in front of a large, floor to ceiling, mirror.  
  
  
  
“Don’t you look extremely handsome and clever?” Nana said approvingly. No wonder I have such a high opinion of myself, never once was I told that I was wrong.  
  
  
  
I nodded happily knowing that she was right.  
  
  
  
Ada went over to the table and picked the tiniest of swords up. He fastened it to a belt and put it around my waist, telling me that I was now a princely elven warrior. I posed happily in front of the mirror and then took the sword out of its sheath.  
  
  
  
“Look Ada, it has my name on it. Look Nana, I got a real sword.” I beamed and both of my parents told me how grown up I looked. “Can I kill someone with it?”  
  
  
  
“Yes, of course you can,” my Ada said with a proud smile. “Whom did you have in mind?”  
  
  
  
“My teacher. He told me off for throwing paint at him, so I think I should kill him first.” I did a couple of moves that I had seen the warriors do on the practise field and both my parents looked proud enough to burst.  
  
  
  
“What a scoundrel,” Ada replied. “Yes, slit his gizzards. He deserves no less.”  
  
  
  
“No, he cannot kill him,” Nana boomed. “We can’t afford to lose any more elves at the moment.” She stroked my head, because I must have looked disappointed. “Running your teacher through with a sword will have to wait until our numbers increase. You are as bad as your ada; he gives no thought to maintaining numbers.” She smiled and kissed me, while straightening the front of my tiny robe. “Who is our little grown up prince then?”  
  
  
  
“Me,” I proudly announced. “I am.”  
  
  
  
I put my tiny hand in Ada’s large one and we set off for the council chamber. I told every elf we encountered upon the way about my sword. They were gushingly effusive, because they feared punishment off my ada, although I did not realise that at the time. I thought Ada was great and it never occurred to me that I was the only one to hold that opinion. Both of my parents made sure that I had a high sense of self worth and they spoiled me rotten. I was never punished for any misdemeanour and I truly think that if I had killed one of my playmates my ada would have smiled benignly and told me to be more careful next time.  
  
  
  
We arrived in the council meeting and his advisors and counsellors were already seated. They stood as soon as the door opened and said, “Greetings, Your Most Excellent and Shining Highness, Imperial Star of all Arda.” Ada lifted me up and stood me on the chair next to his. He looked at the elves standing around the table and raised his eyebrows. “Greetings, Prince Oropher,” they all said in unison. At a wave of the hand, Ada gave the signal for them to sit down.  
  
  
  
Ada addressed the room. “We are here today to decide my ion’s official title and make it law that he be called by it. I have decided that he should be called, His Most Gracious and Supreme Highness, Prince Oropher the Magnificent, Illustrious and Shining Star of all Arda.” He looked around the table. “Everyone put their hands up to show they agree with the proposition.”  
  
  
  
One elf did not put his hand up and looked confused. He was a visitor from Mithlond on a Counsellor Exchange Programme. “Don’t we have to discuss it and take a vote before we agree upon anything?” The other elves at the table looked worried and at least two slowly nodded their heads to him.  
  
  
  
Ada slammed his whip on the table and the elf nearly jumped out of his seat. “What did you say?” he roared.  
  
  
  
“Well that is how we do it in Mithlond,” the elf protested weakly.  
  
  
  
“What shall we do with him, my little one?” Ada asked me affectionately. “You are a very clever little prince and so you must decide. I cannot be making all the decisions now that you are old enough. It would not be fair.” He stroked my cheek. “Go on, you make the decision. Whatever you say, we will do.”  
  
  
  
I told you he was a crazy psycho but he was my ada and I loved him. No lack of self-esteem and ‘my parents did not love me’ issues in my elfling days; I was indulged, spoiled and constantly told that I was loved. “I think that we should make him eat a bowl of cold porridge and smack his bottom and then send him to bed.”  
  
  
  
“Capital idea. Exactly what I was thinking of myself, little one. See how good you are at this?” He looked around at the elves who were sighing with relief. “Show of hands in favour of my proposition.”  
  
  
  
Every elf in the room put their hand up and my ada beamed with joy. “You are now, His Most Gracious and Supreme Highness, Prince Oropher the Magnificent, Illustrious and Shining Star of all Arda. Do you like it little one?”  
  
  
  
“I love it!” I cried and started jumping up and down on the chair. “Thank you Ada.” I looked up, giving him my sweetest smile and he positively melted with pride and happiness.  
  
  
  
Ada picked me up, beaming indulgently. He told the Head Advisor to arrange for the punishment of the elf and announced that he was going to take his little ion out into the garden so that he could learn to use his sword properly.  
  
  
  
“I am going off to kill things,” I said happily to the elves and waved bye bye as we left the room.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
By the time I had finished relating my reminiscences, Haldir was laughing fit to burst. “Your father was crazy. How did you not turn out like him?”  
  
  
  
“I have no idea. I guess that they died too soon to have any long term effect on me, after all I was thrust into kingship only a few days after my fiftieth birthday.” I buttoned my shirt. Cireolas had fallen fast asleep and he smelled sweet and milky; there was a tiny, contented smile on his face.  
  
  
  
“Do you miss being king?” Haldir asked. He would soon be the consort of Celeborn and so I expect he felt a bit nervous.  
  
  
  
“I did for a while after I was born, but I have found that terrorising people with etiquette is much more fun and far more effective. Anyway, I am the Lord of Mithlond and so I rule there with Círdan. It is only the title that is different.” In the distance, I could see my husband; he was up at last.  
  
  
  
“The elves in Mithlond are in for a shock when they see your new body, aren’t they?” Haldir chuckled.  
  
  
  
“Not to mention the Mirkwood lot.”  
  
  
  
Círdan sat beside me and greeted Haldir, saying how well he looked; all the pleasantries that one would expect. Cireolas woke up and wanted to be held by him. I bet he wished that he had not come out to sit with us, especially when my sweet, clever little ion pooed his nappy.  
  
  
  
Cireolas is the most beautiful and lovely ion anyone could have. I cannot even think that the elfling inside me could be as wonderful. I am blessed to have such a happy little boy. I wonder what official title I should give him.  
  
  
  
His Most Happy and Joyful little Highness, Prince Cireolas the Milky, Sweet Smelling and Demanding One, Twinkling Star of all Arda?  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
 **Impressing My Mad-as-a-Hatter Parents.**  
  
  
My sweet little boy is spending more time awake and less time sleeping. I keep saying the word ‘ada,’ to him, but so far all he does is laugh. I know he is only a few weeks old but surely elven offspring start talking before this? Elrond says that Cireolas is listening and when he does start talking we will not be able to shut him up. It does seem as though he is right. I notice that he studies my face intently when I talk to him and if he is crying it is a good way to encourage him to stop.  
  
  
  
We have just had dinner and I am tired. Círdan and I sparred for two hours in the late afternoon, with Cireolas watching and learning from his bouncy chair. I could tell he was impressed with both of us. I expect, before much longer and when he can talk, he will demand his first blade. One of the first things I must do, when I get back to Mithlond, is commission a baby sword for him. One is never too young to wear one.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
I remember the night my ada stabbed the clothes in my wardrobe to death, when I was little elfling Oropher. I woke up in the middle of the night, for no discernible reason, convinced that a monster was in my wardrobe.  
  
  
  
I sat listening hard and wondered if the monster in the wardrobe would leap out and kill me. I was too little to fight it, and my sword was on the bedside table; however, I could not repel an attack because of the ‘stay in bed’ goblin living under my mattress. There was nothing for it but to call out to my mad parents and hope they would hear me.  
  
  
  
“Nana, Ada…” I called out in my most frightened voice; no response. “Nana, there is something in the wardrobe,” I called out in a slightly louder voice, hoping that the thing in the wardrobe did not hear me. I did not dare run in to my parents’ bedroom because of the goblin. I knew he would pull me underground and make me his slave if I got out of bed before it was light. My ada told me this, the bastard, and for years I believed it. I started to cry loudly. Parents may be able to ignore most things, but their elflings’ cries go straight through them; believe me, Cireolas has made me aware of the fact on many an occasion.  
  
  
  
Both my parents ran into the room with their swords at the ready. My Nana swept me up into her arms and asked me what was wrong.  
  
  
  
“I think there is a monster in my wardrobe.” I said, heartily glad that I was in her arms.  
  
  
  
“A monster!” she was outraged. “How dare a monster lurk like a filthy fiend in my sweet little ion’s wardrobe.”  
  
  
  
“It must be killed at once,” Ada cried as he pulled the wardrobe door open. “I think I can see it. Bloody outrageous, what?” He then proceeded to thrust his sword into the wardrobe, many times over until bits of material flew out and fell at his feet. “It’s dead now.”  
  
  
  
“Can I see it?” I asked excitedly, trying to peer over my Nana’s shoulder.  
  
  
  
My ada never faltered, “Of course you can; ugly little rotter isn’t it?”  
  
  
  
“I can’t see a thing,” I replied in a furiously disappointed tone.  
  
  
  
“Well I can.” Nana looked at me. “Look, it is there.” She poked her sword in the mass of torn clothing.  
  
  
  
“Well I can’t see it. All I can see is a pile of rags.” I was terribly upset because I had never seen a dead monster before and I really wanted to see one, more than anything.  
  
  
  
“Ah! I know what the problem is, little Oropher. The monster is invisible.” My ada thought I would fall for that.  
  
  
  
“Well how comes you can see it, then?” I asked outraged at his lie.  
  
  
  
“Because I am a king. When you are a king, you will be able to see invisible monsters too.” Ada took me from Nana’s arms. “If I had seen this monster at a social occasion, for example, I would have had to kill it for being ugly. That was probably the reason it hid in your wardrobe; he knew I was after it.”  
  
  
  
“How did Nana see it?” I wondered how, and I thought I had Ada there.  
  
  
  
“Quite simple, my sweet one,” my nana said as she kissed my cheek. “Queens can see monsters too. This was only a tiny harmless one, but very ugly. What do we do to ugly things, my clever little ion?”  
  
  
  
“We kill them!” I joyfully exclaimed.  
  
  
  
“Indeed we do, little Oropher,” Ada agreed approvingly. “I can see that you will soon be the cleverest elf in the whole of the Greenwood if you carry on being as smart as this.”  
  
  
  
“The Valar have truly blessed us, dear one,” Nana said. She was beaming with pride and kissed my cheek again. “You are such an adorable little thing, aren’t you?”  
  
  
  
They put me back to bed after singing to me and telling me a bedtime story about how Maedhros lost his hand when his cousin cut it off, after he was fastened to a cliff face by Melkor.  
  
  
  
Sleep still eluded me. I lay wide-awake and then I heard noises from underneath the bed. Obviously, it was the elves who lived below us, but I thought it was the goblin. I carefully took my sword, so as not to alert it of my intent, and plunged the sword down in the centre of the mattress, yelling that I was going to kill it for keeping me awake. I stabbed several times and feathers flew everywhere. My parents ran into the room and stood there watching me stabbing the mattress with my tiny sword.  
  
  
  
“I killed the goblin.” I announced proudly.  
  
  
  
“Are you sure?” Ada said, glowing with happiness that his ion thought he had killed something. “They can be tricky little buggers.”  
  
  
  
Nana picked me up off the bed and told Ada to finish off the goblin. “I am so proud of you, my brave little warrior,” she said and hugged me tight. “I expect it was a mean and viciously deranged goblin that ate little elflings, and you have killed it. No wonder your ada and I think you are so wonderful.”  
  
  
  
I cuddled into Nana, feeling extremely happy as Ada walked around the bed assessing the situation. Suddenly, he upended the bed and pounced into the middle of where it had stood. “Have at you, pernicious varlet, and be prepared to die.” He battled the invisible troll for several minutes before announcing that it was dead. He stood over it, and to me it looked as if he could really see it, “Let that be a lesson to you.”  
  
  
  
“The servants can clean your bedroom in the morning, Oropher. You will have to sleep with us.” Nana left the room with me still in her arms.  
  
  
  
“I hope little Oropher doesn’t run me through with his sword if I snore during the night,” Ada joked. “I would leak my tea everywhere at breakfast.”  
  
  
  
“Nana, supposing the servants are tidying up and the goblin comes back to life and bites one of them?” I wondered still if Ada had truly killed it, as I was unable to see its invisible form.  
  
  
  
“They are only servants, little one. They do not mind dying for us; they rather expect to, in fact.” Nana looked at me as if I might have a social conscience and she disapproved.  
  
  
  
Ada agreed with her, “I am sure that the servants who work here look upon it as an honour to die while fulfilling their duties to us. Royalty must never become too concerned about the welfare of those who live to serve. There lies the way of social breakdown and then where would we all be?”  
  
  
  
“But I thought we always have to be nice to servants?” I was truly mystified.  
  
  
  
“Well of course one must always be polite to servants, but that is far from being nice, which is optional and only when deserved, my sweet.” Nana chuckled at her misunderstanding ion.  
  
  
  
“Oropher, you are such a delightful little prince and such a brave one too.” Ada beamed as he settled into bed and placed me in the middle. “I am so heartened by your bravery. Not every elfling would have had the derring-do to attack a goblin through his mattress.”  
  
  
  
“I think a special medal is called for,” Nana said. “One that celebrates your fearless courage and bravery.”  
  
  
  
“Darling, I think you are absolutely right. What do you think about that, my little one?” Ada tweaked my cheek lightly.  
  
  
  
“I love it!” I jumped up and down on the bed in delight and Nana caught me just as I was about to fall over the side.  
  
  
  
“Let us sleep now and plan the medal and the accompanying party for tomorrow.” Nana laid me beside her and held me in her arms until I went to sleep.  
  
  
  
The next morning I went into my bedroom and all the evidence of the night before had vanished. My bed was replaced, with a new mattress and covers. New clothing hung in the wardrobe. Only a tiny scrap of material, that I found on the floor, suggested that anything had happened at all. Thank goodness my parents did not try to deny the events of the previous night; they were certainly capable.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Círdan has Cireolas and me in his arms and we are listening to Lindir sing. Celebrian is holding a special evening for those who have little elflings and the music is supposed to make them sleep soundly overnight. It is worth a try because Cireolas still awakes at night for a feed. I must admit, the music is sending me to sleep as well. My dear husband has just suggested that we apologise for leaving early and give the somnolent effect of the music as the reason. Happily, Celebrian is half-asleep herself, so she knows that we do not mean to offend.  
  
  
  
The next morning Círdan told me that Haldir and Celeborn are planning to wed in a year’s time.  
  
  
  
We can go home.

 

 

  



	10. Arguing With Erestor. Ada Erestor Gets Drunk!!!. Legolas the Vandal.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ereolas argues with Erestor when he tells him who the new baby is reborn from. Erestor gets drunk and Legolas is not happy. Ereolas gets Mel into trouble.

**Arguing with Erestor**  
  
  
  
Taking Cireolas along as a shield, I went to my adas rooms determined that I should tell them that the fëa inside me belonged to Ereinion. Here is how the conversation went:  
  
  
  
“Ada, you know when the Valar gave me a new body that they also put a fëa inside?” I said, holding Cireolas to my chest. He gurgled happily and tried to stuff one of my braids in his mouth.  
  
  
  
Ada Legolas smiled and said how much he was looking forward to a new grand ion but Erestor was not fooled; he knew there was something up. His eyes narrowed and he told me to get on with it.  
  
  
  
“Elrond to checked me over and held Vilya over my belly…”  
  
  
  
“Get on with it,” Erestor rudely interrupted. “I already have a bad feeling about it and you are just procrastinating.”  
  
  
  
“How do you have a bad feeling about it?” I was shocked, and distantly aware that Cireolas had drooled on my cheek.  
  
  
  
“If the news was good you would have told us straight away. It has been several days since Elrond saw you and you have not said a thing.” Erestor looked at me; he was not angry but not happy either. “Now, out with it.”  
  
  
  
“The fëa is Ereinion.” I sat back, wiping the drool off my cheek and retrieving my braid from Cireolas’ playful paws. I waited for the inevitable explosion.  
  
  
  
“I thought as much.” That was it, no explosion at all. “Why didn’t you tell me straightaway?”  
  
  
  
“I did not know how to tell you.” It was true and his birth would bring all sorts of uncomfortable feelings to surface. I am incredibly embarrassed that I am going to give birth to my former lover. I do not need to ask Erestor how he suspected it would be Ereinion; it was obvious from my reluctance to tell him.  
  
  
  
“As I see it, he will be a small elfling. If he starts demanding his kingdom back as soon as he is born then he will not be taken seriously, just as you were not when you demanded yours.” I shifted uncomfortably knowing that I had threatened to kill my family, when an elfling, if they did not support me in regaining my kingdom.  
  
  
  
“Do you need to bring that up?” I asked and felt upset that my ada had called the comparison.  
  
  
  
Legolas put his arms around my shoulders. “You have been a very good ion since then and we both love you, regardless of who you were in your previous life. However, we are worried that now you have Oropher’s body and are so like him in personality that you might support Ereinion if he ever wanted to be king again.”  
  
  
  
“Círdan and I have already discussed this. He said that if he suggests being high king again we should come down hard on him. I do not think a high king is needed and I am sure that he will be forbidden by the Valar to make such a claim anyway.” I looked at Erestor. “As I was forbidden also.”  
  
  
  
“It did not stop you though.” Erestor was near to anger. “If he is taken seriously and his cause is supported then it could threaten the peace of Middle-earth. There are those alive who will follow him and they will see him as some sort of saviour because his legend has grown in the constant retelling. We are slowly approaching a war and we do not need some elfling on board who cannot deliver the goods.” Erestor was not amused. This is a side of Ada that I have always pushed to the back of my mind as he can be quite scary.  
  
  
  
“Well it is not my fault that he is to be reborn, is it?” I stood up, clutching my small ion, near to losing my temper. “Blame the Valar, not me!”  
  
  
  
“It is your responsibility how he is reared and how he turns out.” Erestor’s raised voice caused me to shake with anger. I will not be judged by implication.  
  
  
  
“Why are you shouting at me? It is not as though I want another baby anyway.” It is my last defence and I felt like storming out. I was also worried about the effect of the argument on Cireolas. Círdan and I never argue in front of him but he seemed to be taking the altercation in his stride.  
  
  
  
“Because, I believe that if we gave you the kingship of Mirkwood on a plate you would snatch it out of our hands. You have no chance of that but you have a very real chance of power through your ion.” Erestor still looked cold and angry.  
  
  
  
Legolas took Cireolas, who started to cry, and that stopped the shouting dead. “The Valar have threatened to take my life if ever I become king again. I am, along with Círdan, the ruling Lord of Mithlond, and that is enough for me.” Legolas guided me to sit down and softly told me not to upset myself. Then he ordered Erestor to stop arguing as because Cireolas was upset.  
  
  
  
“I am not arguing, Legolas. I am merely stating a few well reasoned concerns.” Erestor sat down at the table and faced me.  
  
  
  
“You are arguing, meleth, and I will not stand for all this disruption in front of my grand ion. It is not on and it stops now; do I make myself clear?” Legolas looked on the edge of rage and we both looked at him in surprise. “You have no basis for these allegations,” he pointed out to Erestor and then addressed me. “If your Ada is correct, Ereolas, I will be extremely angry with you.”  
  
  
  
My mouth hung open in shock. Erestor looked at his husband in disbelief. Legolas continued, “Now why don’t we discuss what to do if Ereinion does do all the things you are sure he will do?” Ada Legolas still glared angrily at Erestor. “You have upset Ereolas over something that may never happen, and you have accused him of being complicit in future plans with no basis except that it might happen. It is simply not on, and I will not stand for this discord. Ereolas has been through enough already and I do not want him doing anything silly because his ada is a halfwit who opens his mouth without thinking.” Legolas patted Cireolas on the back and tried to calm him down while still glaring at Erestor.  
  
  
  
“It is all right, Ada,” I said wearily. “I am not going to do anything silly.”  
  
  
  
“I could not stand it if you hurt yourself again.” Ada’s voice broke, he could not say the word, ‘kill,’ it upset him too much. He kissed Cireolas and I noticed his eyes were shining. I hurt him more than I ever thought possible by killing myself; even though I would have died anyway it profoundly affected him.  
  
  
  
Erestor sat Legolas down and puts his arms around him, apologising as he did so. Cireolas was oblivious and grabbed at the leaf decoration fastening the side braids at the back of Ada’s head. “I will be all right, just sort this out.”  
  
  
  
I heartily wished that I had brought Círdan along with me. It was a mistake not to, but I thought I was doing the right thing. I did not think that Erestor would let old prejudices rule his reactions and I counted on him to be the reasoned thinker that I always knew him to be, in spite of my trepidation in telling him. I knew that he did not exactly hate Ereinion but he was less than enamoured of him, even though he was once his consort.  
  
  
  
“Coming to tell you was a mistake.” I stood up and moved towards Legolas to take Cireolas from him. “I did not think that I would be accused of things that have never even entered my head to be considered. I also came to tell you that Círdan and I are going home. We do not want to stay here.” For some reason, I could feel myself getting upset. “We live a simple life tucked away by the sea and we do not seek to influence anyone.” I bit my lip, my elleth type feelings threatening to rise to the surface. I needed to leave as soon as possible.  
  
  
  
Erestor puts his arms around me when I went to take Cireolas. “I apologise. The fault is entirely mine and I let my feelings get the better of me.”  
  
  
  
“If that is how your feelings are, then I think you do not trust or like me very much at all.” The realisation broke me and Erestor held me tight as I sought to free myself. “Let me go.” I tried to get away but he held onto me and spoke softly. He told me that he detested Oropher but he loved his ion, Ereolas, very much. To him we were two different elves and he feared the return of the old Oropher, whom he considered a total bastard of the highest order.  
  
  
  
“Ada,” I replied with my head on his shoulder and him stroking my hair. “This is the real me. This is what I am like. I do not have to be king and have the forced exaggeration of personality that goes with it. I can be myself. It does not matter which name is attached, I am who I am and I seek to be nothing else. Why can’t you see that? Strip away that I was king and look underneath. Oropher and Ereolas are exactly alike; they are me.”  
  
  
  
“I am sorry,” Erestor said, still using his soft voice. “It was wrong of me to say that and I am sorry I hurt you. Perhaps I should have said that I hated Oropher’s actions, some of which had a direct and painful effect on me. Normally I can forgive any assault but Ereinion could be especially selfish and unthinkingly cruel; he was very open to provocation, especially from Oropher. I did not mourn either of their deaths.”  
  
  
  
“Then you will have to put the past behind you. You cannot afford to do anything else because I have no choice in the fëa that I carry. He will be a small baby and would not deserve to be disliked for things that happened in the past.” Legolas stood behind me and Cireolas patted my cheek with his tiny hand and giggled. “You did not hate me when I was born, did you?”  
  
  
  
“No, of course not,” Erestor was shocked but he quickly recovered. “However; I was not going to let a tiny baby tell me what to do.” A big smile split his face. “You were bloody awful until I smacked your arse!”  
  
  
  
“The night you did that, Lord Námo called me into his presence and threatened to take my life, there and then; he was so angry with me. I had to promise to never seek the throne or even to accept kingship if offered to me.” I took Cireolas from Ada Legolas. “I cannot even seek power through the throne of a king; that is not allowed either. I am not even allowed to give Thranduil advice that might ultimately or unintentionally increase my power, even if the effect is only slight.”  
  
  
  
“But you are one of the ruling Lords of Mithlond. How are you allowed to have power like that? Isn’t it the same as being a king?” Erestor seemed mystified and from Legolas’ expression, I saw that he was too.  
  
  
  
“It is in the word king. I can be a lord but not a king. I can be a prince but not a king. I can have all the power I want, but I cannot claim it as a king, or through a king.” I smiled and took Cireolas into my arms. “I will be king again in Valinor; this has been promised this as a reward for not seeking my old kingdom here. That is enough for me.”  
  
  
  
“All of this could have been avoided if we communicated better.” Legolas looked sternly at both of us. “You each expect the other to know what you are talking about, without having said anything in the first place. You are very alike in that respect; you push buttons on each other that no one else can and upset each other at the drop of a hat. I do not like to see this arguing and I hope this is an end to it.” He looked at both of us and like little sheep we agreed. Legolas was pleased. “Right then; we can go to dinner now.” He linked arms with both of us and we left the room.  
  
  
  
We still felt fragile but everything was a whole lot better than before. Erestor knows my ion is Ereinion and he is able to put aside his fears about the future. We walked along the corridor, chattering and occasionally laughing, and on the way we met Círdan. He took Cireolas from me, asking how everything went.  
  
  
  
Erestor replies, “Everything went fine.”  
  
  
  
  
  
 **Ada Erestor gets drunk!!!**  
  
  
  
Everything proceeded well at dinner, after resolving the argument with my adas, until Elrond cracked open the bottles of Castle Havens sparkling wine that Círdan and I sent him as a Yule present. It is a seductive and extremely exclusive wine, produced in small quantities from the vines in the castle gardens. Círdan and I can drink like the fishes drink the water in the river, but we normally steer clear of this particular wine as it has an effect like an unpredictable thunderbolt. After one glass or twenty, one can feel perfectly in control and be relaxed and happy. Drunkenness comes suddenly and without warning.  
  
  
  
The ever-protective Glorfindel laid his arm around Mel’s shoulders; he was trying to get him to drink some of the wine. “I promise Mel; you will love it.”  
  
  
  
“I am tired,” my elder brother whined. “I have already had some wine with our meal. Why can’t we go to bed and fuck like rabbits instead of drinking stupid wine?”  
  
  
  
Glorfindel grinned, so wide that his face nearly split. “Suddenly, meleth, I do not want to drink wine either.”  
  
  
  
Neither was aware that the whole table was staring at them. “Mel, not in public, please.” Legolas gave him his best, ‘I am your parent look.’ I fully support my ada in this; breaches of etiquette can never be entertained; not even if one’s life is at risk.  
  
  
  
“Well I was not going to do it in public.” Mel grinned like a naughty elfling, even though he is one hundred and two years old and should know better. “However, I think I would enjoy the added thrill of possibly being caught.” He winked at Legolas who told the rest of the table to ignore him.  
  
  
  
“To the gardens, my only one?” Glorfindel grinned and held out his arm. He is just as bad as my brother is, who, no doubt, has brought out the hidden elfling in his character.  
  
  
  
Mel, ever the little devil, took his husband’s arm and replied, “Yes, I think so; although, I hope a trip to the gardens does not completely shag me out. I would like to save a bit of myself for bed.”  
  
  
  
“We did bring him up properly didn’t we?” Erestor half jokingly asked Legolas, who was shaking his head. I swear that if Cireolas ever embarrasses Círdan or me like that, I will put him across my knee in public and give him a jolly hard spanking. It is obvious that Mel was never reprimanded enough as a child or he is incapable of maturity.  
  
  
  
Mel wished us all as good a night as he would have. He meowed at Legolas and hid behind Glorfindel giggling when he threatened to smack his bottom.  
  
  
  
“That was totally uncalled for, little Melpy Welpy.” Ada grinned as he rose from his chair. Mel, as big as he is, ran out of the room howling with raucous laughter.  
  
  
  
Glorfindel merely shook his head and grinned. “Never mind, Legolas. I will give him a spanking if his naughtiness persists.” He exited the room, laughing to Mel, who was hovering outside the door. “Come on you bad elf,” he said to him.  
  
  
  
“I thought we were going to the gardens.” Mel protested, as he was led the opposite way.  
  
  
  
“We have a perfectly good bed and that is where we are going.” Mel frowned and he saw me smiling at him. The twat poked his tongue out at me.  
  
  
  
“I wonder how Glorfindel puts up with him.” Legolas looked at Erestor. “I bet you were like that when you were younger.”  
  
  
  
My ada gave a smug smile. “It was thousands of years ago and you will never know.” It was the wrong thing to say.  
  
  
  
“He was very naughty. At least Mel has never played with the plumbing, so that when the toilet is flushed the contents of the pan hit King Oropher in the face.” Círdan sat back and grinned; I join him as I remember the incident only too well.  
  
  
  
“He painted the warriors’ horses purple,” I grinned. “In fact you were probably the most badly behaved elfling ever.” I gave a sly grin to Legolas. “The elves of Mithlond held a demonstration, complete with banners and placards, demanding that Círdan keep a tighter control on him because he was so disruptive in the town.”  
  
  
  
Legolas chuckled as he looked at Erestor. “I would never have thought. I am so glad I did not meet you all those thousands of years ago; I am sure I would not have liked you.”  
  
  
  
Erestor merely grinned. “You are my soul mate. Of course, you would have liked me. In fact you would have loved me.”  
  
  
  
Elrond sighed happily, Celebrían cuddling up to him. No wonder Mel loves it here; if the Lord and Lady do not give a fig about the etiquette of public behaviour then what chance does anyone else have. “Who would like wine?” He handed a bottle to Erestor and one to Círdan; he kept the remaining one and poured a glass for himself and his wife.  
  
  
  
I was not sure if I wanted any more wine as I had drank quite a bit at dinner. “One glass should be all right,” Círdan said, after I voiced my concerns that Ereinion’s fëa would become irretrievably legless for the next few hours and start singing old songs like, ‘Breaking in the warriors, atop the castle wall, aye me lads, open your legs…’ If I remembered correctly that was his absolute favourite when he was drunk. I trusted Círdan and took a sip.  
  
  
  
Erestor drank a glass of the wine and pronounced that it was just how he remembered it. He smiled happily at Ada Legolas. “Drink up, meleth.”  
  
  
  
“Isn’t this the wine that gets one drunk all of a sudden?” Legolas narrowed his eyes. “Do you think it wise to have another glass?”  
  
  
  
“My only one; if you get drunk I will carry you home.” Erestor put his arm around Legolas’ shoulder and kissed him. He gave him the glass of wine.  
  
  
  
“It is very nice.” Legolas grinned and ate a spoonful of his left over syllabub. “I suppose it will not work as quickly if one has a full stomach.” He took another gulp; Círdan and I said nothing.  
  
  
  
“Well I have opened three bottles, so get stuck in,” Elrond announced, he was already on his second glass. “I have nine more in the cellar.”  
  
  
  
We continued to drink, well into the evening. Sometime later, Legolas whispered into Erestor’s ear, causing him to grin like a crazy warg, and then winked, “Don’t be long,”  
  
  
  
“Mmm…Kitty tails?” Erestor was like a salivating dog after a lump of fresh meat. I wish my adas were not so open about their sex life in front of us; it is highly embarrassing. He stroked the curve of Legolas’ ass and blew kisses to him.  
  
  
  
“Do not be too long,” Legolas was really turning it on for Ada. “I will be dressed for your pleasure.” I do not think we were meant to hear that last bit, but we did anyway.  
  
  
  
“I will be ten minutes.” Erestor kissed Legolas on the cheek. “It will give you enough time to change.”  
  
  
  
My ada sashayed out of the room and Erestor’s eyes never left his form until he had gone through the door. We sat, making small talk. Cirdan’s new carved rock specimen acquired an immense amount of interest from all at the table, which it had failed to attract when first purchased. Even Elrond and Celebrían joined in the discussion. The only one oblivious was Ada, ‘I am led around by my dick,’ Erestor.  
  
  
  
“What are you all talking about?” he asked, grinning like a simpleton.  
  
  
  
“Círdan bought a new carved rock for his collection.” I replied, in as neutral a tone as I could. I dearly hoped that on his next visit he would not embarrass us both in the very formal court of Mithlond. It would be so irksome to have one’s ada regarded as becoming an oik.  
  
  
  
To be fair though, Erestor does know how to observe etiquette to a high degree of formality. He just chooses not to do it. We sat drinking some more, Elrond assuring me that, unlike humans, elves cannot hurt their unborn babies by drinking and so I went for it. We all started knocking back the wine. When the bottles were empty, we were happy, but nowhere near drunk.  
  
  
  
“Let’s get some more bottles out of the cellar,” Elrond suggested. We all thought it jolly good idea and faithfully trooped behind him as he led the way to the cellars.  
  
  
  
Celebrian decided to go to bed, which left four of us on a mission. We entered the cellars and Erestor suddenly remembered that he was supposed to be with Legolas, and that was an hour ago. “Oh shit! He is going to kill me.” Ada drank the last remaining drops of wine in his glass and it hit him. Castle Haven wine made my ada, suddenly, dead drunk.  
  
  
  
Gracefully, Ada Erestor fell to the floor. “Damn,” we all say and watch the wineglass skitter across the cellar floor before smashing against a wooden barrel support.  
  
  
  
I picked Erestor up and slung him over my shoulder. “You just could not resist the last drops, could you?” I said to him, knowing that Legolas will be very angry with him, and also with me. He will say that I got him into that state and I should have discouraged him. As if, I could do that.  
  
  
  
I got to the rooms and knocked on the door. “Ada,” I called out. “Are you decent?”  
  
  
  
I heard muffled swearing and the sound of material swishing. Legolas opened the door wearing a housecoat, done up to the neck and all the way to the floor. “I am sorry Ada, he only had one more glass after you left and he wanted to finish it. We got into conversation about Cirdan’s carved stone and the time just flew.”  
  
  
  
“You are in so much trouble,” Legolas hissed at me. “You could have stopped him…” It went on in that vein for the next few minutes. “Don’t put him on the bed,” Ada screeched. “Put him on the settee, he can stay there all night.”  
  
  
  
I laid Erestor down and noticed that he had a small smile on his face. He was slightly awake and mumbled, “Gil, kish my arsh a hundreds times, go on, you promished…” He wiggled his ass and grinned. Legolas slapped him hard around the face and stormed off into the bedroom. I thought that I had better leave while the going was good. It was about the hardest slap I had ever seen.  
  
  
  
I went back to the Hall of Fire and it had been decided not to open any more Castle Havens because the party had chanced upon a couple of bottles of Lothlórien daffodil wine. A glass was waiting for me and I drank it down at once. Círdan poured another one for me and I drank that too.  
  
  
  
“Legolas is very unhappy with me and he has just given Erestor the hardest slap I have ever seen. It was so hard he has probably broken his jaw.” I took a sip of my third glass. “He made me put him on the settee and then Erestor said that he wanted Ereinion to kiss his ass one hundred times as promised. That is what earned him the slap.” Of course, Círdan and Elrond fell about laughing.  
  
  
  
“Poor Legolas; he is not terribly happy about Ereinion being reborn,” Elrond sniggered. “I am not happy about it either, but there is bugger all a baby can do to me.”  
  
  
  
“No one is happy about it,” Círdan sighed. “The only one who ever got along with Ereinion was Oropher. Most of our arguments were about him. However, I really should have known my fears were groundless and that Oropher was not jumping into bed with him at the drop of a hat.”  
  
  
  
I look ingenuous and Elrond choked on his wine. “Are you all right?” I asked.  
  
  
  
“Wine went down the wrong way.” Elrond recovered quickly and grinned at Círdan. “We should have stuck to Castle Haven wine, no choking on that.”  
  
  
  
In the end, we ran out of wine and made our way back to our rooms. Elrond was deposited at his door first and then we went a couple of doors along to our rooms.  
  
  
  
We snuggled into bed. Happily, Cireolas was in the baby crèche for the night, so we could make love and be as noisy as we wanted to be. Círdan kissed my lips and then he licked my ears, causing me to groan. “It is good to see you having fun, meleth.” He kissed me so sensuously that I felt my legs opening, without any thought on my part, ready to receive the one I love.  
  
  
  
“I have missed having fun. It was good tonight,” I pushed upwards to increase the body contact but he held me down.  
  
  
  
“I am going to slowly have you all night, meleth,” he breathed. “Do not even think that you will get any sleep.”  
  
  
  
My heart was racing and my breathing rapid. “I cannot wait…do it now!”  
  
  
  
He grinned and stroked my belly with his fingertips, causing me to shudder with pleasure and then he sank into me. My life is complete and I told him so. He is not a fool. He knows that I was unfaithful to him when I was Oropher, but being reborn as Ereolas was a new start for the both of us and that is the way it will continue. Perhaps it was for the best that Ereinion is to be born to us; it means that Círdan need never worry again.  
  
  
  
“I love you so much,” my only one breathed as he came. “You are the brightest and loveliest star in my universe and I will love you forever more.”  
  
  
  
I make no apology for our sweet, sugary, cloying endearments; we love one another and that is what counts. I smiled widely and hugged him closer. “You will always be my only one. You are my existence.” I kissed him and he held me tighter. Already he had hardened again and gripped his hand around both our cocks. It is going to be a long night; we will climb the mountain of pleasure together and descend the furthest side in each other’s arms, safe in the knowledge that it will last forever.  
  
  
  
Much later, we settled down to sleep. All around was quiet. My husband’s chest rose up and down at an even rate; he was fast asleep. I was trying to sleep too, but all I could hear was the occasional hiccough and tiny voice coming from my belly, singing:  
  
  
  
“Breaking in the warriors, Atop the castle wall, Aye me lad, Open your legs, And bare your arse to all…”  
  
  
  
  
  
 **Legolas the Vandal**  
  
  
  
I felt absolutely wonderful this morning. Círdan and I were like happy little larks and made the most of it before collecting our small ion. On the way there, we had to pass the door to my adas’ rooms. Legolas was yelling at the top of his voice, presumably at Erestor, who was not making any sound that we could discern. It was enough to make Círdan and I snigger. We are great spontaneous sniggerers and we can do it in unison without any prompting from each other.  
  
  
  
We heard something smack off the door and it clanged on the frame. It sounded as though something had been thrown against it, something large. Maybe it was Erestor. I turned and looked at Círdan in surprise and he looked at me with a similar expression. We burst into fits of laughter. The door handle started to turn, so we quickly skipped around the corner and into a handy public balcony, then we jumped over the side to the ground below.  
  
  
  
We landed on Mel, who was giving Glorfindel what can only be described as mouth-to-mouth resuscitation; not that my brother noticed or tried to stop what he was doing, but his bimbo husband did. “Sorry…” I mumbled as we rolled over the grass. “Just avoiding someone.”  
  
  
  
“Bugger off and find your own bit of garden,” Glorfindel glared at both of us. Then he put his arm around Mel, who waved us away and started to kiss his husband’s ear. “Come on meleth, again.” They resumed what they were doing. They could hardly complain as they were kissing in a public area.  
  
  
  
We walked off and after making our way to the entrance of the house we saw Elrond, who was filled with the joys of the happy morning. “How is Erestor?” he asked.  
  
  
  
“We really do not know,” my wonderfully quick-witted Muffy replied. “I am more concerned that Mel and Glorfindel are having sex in a public area.”  
  
  
  
“Surely not?” Elrond looked concerned and somewhat annoyed. He looked at me, “Is this true?”  
  
  
  
I looked down as if embarrassed and he thanked us for telling him before hurrying off to stop them. After a few seconds, Círdan looked at me and we both sniggered, before making our way to the baby crèche.  
  
  
  
Cireolas was crying and had the most miserable face. According to the head of the crèche, who was holding him, he was upset to find that we were not there when he woke up. However, is it not great that slept all night? I cuddled him to my chest and said sweet things. His crying ceased immediately. Círdan paid the elleth at reception double the rate because she had to endure a screaming baby and we took him away to give him a feed.  
  
  
  
We ate breakfast in our rooms because Cireolas was hungry and I still feel a bit strange breast-feeding in large crowds. It is not often that a male elf breastfeeds, if ever, and I can do without the peering eyes, especially the ellith in Celebrían’s slash writing group. I seem to get an undue amount of attention from those little minxes.  
  
  
  
We had no plans for the morning and so we went off in search of Galadriel, whom Círdan thought might act as a mediator with Erestor and Legolas. We could not find her and after a fruitless search we were informed by the Chief Advisor that she was off on a love trip with Saelbeth so they could spend some quality time together without interruption. They have a perfectly good bed in her rooms; what is it with all this roughing it just so that one can have sex in the open air, I wonder. Does it occur to them that small creatures and trees do not give a fig about what they are doing? Call me unadventurous but a bed surrounded by four walls with a lockable door and shuttered windows will do for every time.  
  
  
  
We did not want to disturb Celeborn and Haldir, as we did not feel they were possessed of enough strength to help sort out a serious argument. Not being able to enlist anyone else, we stood outside Legolas and Erestor’s door and listened.  
  
  
  
Elrohir spotted us as he was walking down the corridor. “Hello,” he looked especially cheerful this morning. “Just got back from our mini-patrol. Will we see you both tonight at dinner?”  
  
  
  
“I should think so,” I replied. “We are working up the nerve to knock on my adas door.”  
  
  
  
“They were making a lot of noise earlier on,” Elrohir listened along with us. “They seem silent now.”  
  
  
  
I have been trying for ages to teach Cireolas to say words and he has not said a thing. I gave my little bundle to Elrohir and asked if he would mind babysitting for about half an hour. He agreed to take Cireolas to the library; my little ion adores Elrohir so I knew he would be very happy to go with him. As soon as he took Cireolas in his arms, my small ion said, “Ada”; not to me but to Elrohir.  
  
  
  
“I am Ada,” I said to Cireolas while stroking his cheek.  
  
  
  
My baby ion giggled before grabbing one of Elrohir’s braids, and calling him ada again. My tiny little elfling adores Elrohir and he does not mind being alone with him at all.  
  
  
  
We watched them walk away and then we nervously knocked on the door. It swung open of its own accord because the locking mechanism and handle were broken. The place was a mess; everything in the living room was smashed and I could hear Legolas and Erestor yelling at each another over the far side of the apartment, behind the bathroom door.  
  
  
  
“That is why we could not hear them,” Círdan muttered. “Time this stopped, I think. No good can come of their continued arguing.” He crossed the room and flung open the bathroom door. Erestor’s attention was diverted and a flying plant pot hit his head. It was thrown with such force that he fell awkwardly to the floor. In spite of Círdan rushing forward to catch him, Erestor hit his head against the cupboard and was knocked unconscious. I stared in disbelief when Legolas threw a bottle of bath oil at him.  
  
  
  
I caught the bottle and placed it on the washstand. Legolas picked up another bottle and so I leapt forward to block his aim. “Get out of the way,” he yelled at me.  
  
  
  
Ada threw the bottle anyway and it hit me. His delivery was so swift that I could not deflect the missile and it impacted just under my eye. Now I was angry. I ran forward and grabbed hold of him.  
  
  
  
“You had better let go of me,” Ada hissed.  
  
  
  
Legolas is no match for my strength. Since I was reborn with Oropher’s body there are not many who could beat me. He was surprised and continued to struggle but I held him tight. “Get Erestor to the healing rooms,” I called to Círdan, who had already picked him up. “I will stay with Legolas.”  
  
  
  
“It’s Ada to you,” Legolas screeched angrily at me.  
  
  
  
“I might be your ion but I am also your Grand Ada and it is as him that I am going to deal with this.” My ada’s eyes widened.  
  
  
  
“What are you going to do, make me sail?” he taunted.  
  
  
  
“No,” I replied evilly. “I am going to spank my wayward grand ion’s bottom.”  
  
  
  
“You would not dare,” he hissed angrily.  
  
  
  
“Actually Ada, I have too much love and respect to embarrass you or hurt you, even though you have hurt me.” I am relaxing my hold a little but still keeping tight. “I never thought you would ever do anything like this to me or Erestor.”  
  
  
  
Legolas’ body relaxed a fraction. “He deserved it.”  
  
  
  
“How?” I asked angrily; even though Erestor was drunk and made a stupid remark, the slap around the face was more than adequate. In my opinion, the whole incident should have calmed down somewhat by the morning and not elevated to the full-scale serious incident it had now become. I took Ada to the bedroom, as it was the only fit place to sit, and sat him on the bed.  
  
  
  
“Now tell me what happened and remember for the next few minutes I am your Grand Ada Oropher.” I kept my arm around him but all resistance had left and Ada burst into tears.  
  
  
  
“He doesn’t love me…” Legolas wailed.  
  
  
  
“Pull yourself together,” I ordered. “Mirkwood Elves do not cry. Now tell me what happened.”  
  
  
  
“Erestor woke up this morning and could not talk. I must have dislocated his jaw when I slapped him. He went into the bathroom and put his fingers in his mouth and realigned it. I said I was sorry, but he exploded with rage and told me that I totally overreacted.” Legolas drew his knees up under his chin and sniffed. “He said lots of other things and I yelled back at him. Then he said ‘What happened to the sweet natured, even tempered, compliant elf whose only desire in life was to please me?’ Then he said I had turned into a harpy. That is when I started throwing stuff at him and smashing the place up.” At this point, he started to cry again. “I did not know how to stop. Erestor will hate me forever now. I smashed things of his that are irreplaceable.”  
  
  
  
“Listen,” I say as he sobs even louder. “Erestor still loves you. Now, you slapped him because of something he said when he was drunk about someone whom he tells you that he did not love. In fact, he did love Ereinion. It was a strange relationship and it often looked as though they hated one another, but I think they loved one another very much. I know Erestor says that he did not mourn him but I do not believe it.”  
  
  
  
“Why are you telling me this?” Legolas rudely interrupts, forgetting to cry.  
  
  
  
“Shut up and listen to Grand Ada.” I ordered, still holding him in place with my arm. “That was over a thousand years ago and you are jealous? Did Erestor throw anything or physically hurt you?”  
  
  
  
“No, he shouted back at me, but that is all he did. He did not throw anything or touch me.” Legolas buried his head in his knees, “I do not even want him thinking about Ereinion and when he is reborn he will be here again. I want to be the only one in Erestor’s mind and now I have lost him forever and he will hate me for this.” I sighed at the self indulgence.  
  
  
  
“Erestor told you he did not love Ereinion because he did not want you to get hurt. It seems that he was right and you are too immature to accept that he had previous lovers. He bound with you, for Valar’s sake. You are the one he loves and always will love. He loves you intensely and you are his world. Why can’t you see that?” I put my fingers under his chin and looked at his puffy face. “Go and wash.”  
  
  
  
“I don’t know why I let you talk to me like this…” he muttered on the way to the bathroom.  
  
  
  
He emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later and put the clothes on that I laid out for him.  
  
  
  
“Come on,” I said, taking his arm. “We are going to see Erestor.” 

 

 

  



	11. Parts 29, 30 and 31. Cooling Down - Thranduil's Hugest Secret in the Whole World - Morning Sickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erestor and Legolas make up after the argument where Legolas broke Erestor's jaw. Ereolas reminisces about when he was King Oropher and Thranduil asked him to keep a huge secret - he was a little boy at the time. Ereolas walks in the gardens with Celebrian and tells a tiny lie to Cirdan - it has unimagined consequences.

 

 

 

 

**Cooling down**  
  
  
  
  
  
“I don’t see the point of going to see your Ada when I know that all he will do is shout at me.” Legolas and I were on the way to the healing rooms.  
  
  
  
“I know you are nervous, but it has to be done now rather than later.” I held his arm so that he could not run away. “Círdan and I will stay with you and mediate if need be.”  
  
  
  
“I do not even know what to say to him,” Legolas said while looking down at the floor as we walked.  
  
  
  
“Hold your head up, say you are sorry and tell him your fears.” We walk a few more steps. “Surely you have argued before?”  
  
  
  
“No, we have had minor disagreements but this is our first actual argument.”  
  
  
  
My parents have been married one hundred and two years and have never had a proper argument. I am amazed. Círdan and I absolutely insist on having at least one argument a month. Well, all I can say is that Legolas is going to experience fantastic makeup sex and he might not mind about arguing in future.  
  
  
  
We entered the healing rooms to see Erestor holding an ice pack to his jaw. He sat on the edge of the bed. Elrond was busy telling him that he really should lie down. Erestor did not notice us and we heard him telling Elrond that he wanted to see Legolas and would not lie down because he did not want to.  
  
  
  
I noticed two small glasses with the residue of some medicine in them, no doubt pain relief for my Ada. Legolas walked forward, puts his arms around Erestor, and said he was sorry. Elrond and I withdrew into the herb preparation room. It has a two-way mirror, but we could not hear a thing. It did not matter; they sat beside one another and talked.  
  
  
  
Legolas hung his head down and looked at the floor. From the Erestor’s intent expression, I could see that he was listening and so Legolas must have been talking. Then we saw Erestor talking. Valar! The suspense was killing me.  
  
  
  
“What do you think they are saying?” I asked Círdan, who was already in the room when Elrond and I decamped to there. I could not see their lips clearly so I was not able to guess.  
  
  
  
“Well having never been able to lip read, I find that I am suddenly blessed with the gift,” he replied in his most sarcastic tone.  
  
  
  
I pinched his bum and made him jump. He put his arm around my shoulder and kissed my cheek. All three of us continued to watch.  
  
  
  
Erestor put his arms around Legolas, who looked as if he was in some distress because of the way his upper body is moving. I doubt he was crying though; he never shows his elleth-type emotions, especially where they can be observed by others. I watched Erestor rubbing Ada’s back and talking to him. Then they gave each other small kisses. They sat for a long time just holding one another, and just when we were getting to the point where we would have to make our excuses and leave, they jumped off the bed and left the room, arm in arm.  
  
  
  
“I hope they are all right now. Legolas is very insecure, but he is young. It must be hard being married to someone who has had such a long life, with so much that has happened in the past. He must be constantly worried about the possibility of old lovers popping up and, Valar knows, Erestor has had quite a few of them.” Elrond pontificated.  
  
  
  
“Including you,” I replied cheekily. Elrond had the decency to laugh. “Don’t worry Legolas will never hear it from my lips.”  
  
  
  
We left the rooms and made our way to the library with Elrond in tow. Elrohir sat in an armchair with Cireolas facing him, saying “Elrohir…” Cireolas squealed with laughter and beat his little fists up and down on his knees with excitement.  
  
  
  
“He called Elrohir, ‘Ada’ before. It was his first word.” I said to Elrond.  
  
  
  
“I told you he would start talking before long.” Elrond grinned and took Cireolas from Elrohir. My ion now calls him Ada too. He is always so excited and says Ada to everyone.  
  
  
  
Elrond spent some time telling Cireolas what a lovely elfling he is and, in the end, he took him to the baby soft play section. They sat on the padded floor together. He picked a toy up and showed it to my ion, who squealed with delight and held onto it.  
  
  
  
We sat with Elrohir and relaxed. The events of the morning were over and I could get back to relating the tales of when I was King Oropher. Amon Lanc, my childhood home, is not the same as Mirkwood. It is important that stories are recorded, giving personal views, so that what is lost lives on in our memories. It is also vital that we move forward too. I watched my small ion having fun and knew that he would enjoy peace for a length of time never before possible. That made me happy. Cireolas sat with Elrond, an old warrior by any standard and delighted in his company. It was heartening to see that for the moment we can relax and enjoy the small pleasures that are so important.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
 **Thranduil’s Hugest Secret in the Whole World.**  
  
  
  
  
Erestor and Legolas did not show their faces until the next evening at dinner. They seemed back to normal, although Erestor was overly attentive to Legolas, who was lapping up the extra attention. I asked for an update and both told me to mind my own business. Damn them! I almost singlehandedly saved their marriage and I am told to butt out! Well, they can sort themselves out next time. We leave for the Mithlond in a couple of days and I will not be there to rescue them if they argue again. Muffy said they are ungrateful swine and I agreed; then he said he could not judge them too harshly because they are excellent babysitters and obviously love me very much. Muffy always presents a balanced view; I suppose that is what comes from being incredibly old.  
  
  
  
Galadriel is back. The love trip, with Saelbeth, went swimmingly. They have announced their betrothal, which, they say, happened on a romantic mountaintop, although I am sure they were betrothed before they went away. A mountaintop? Ha! As if that were true.  
  
  
  
Celebrian is doubtful as well; she said that they probably never left her private gardens. She is such an amusing elleth and had me in stitches doing impersonations of Galadriel declaring undying love.  
  
  
  
Galadriel and Saelbeth sat at a private table, during dinner, looking into each others’ eyes and ignoring all who waved and wished them a happy evening. Círdan is of the opinion that they should have eaten in their rooms, and I agree. Muffy is always right in these things. He is even hotter on the rules of etiquette than I am; however, I consider it a character flaw that he does not find the books on the subject as engrossing as I do.  
  
  
  
Mel and Glorfindel glared at Círdan and me during dinner. Elrond is convinced they had sex in the public gardens and, even though they both deny it, they are still feeling the wrathful edge of his tongue and his sarcastic observations. I am proud to say that my Muffy stirred that one up. Maybe we should tell Elrond that we are mistaken, but I think not; let it be a happy remembrance for them.  
  
  
  
Haldir and Celeborn joined us at the table and wished us a safe journey home. They are travelling back to Lothlórien in the morning, so we wished them likewise. I really do not think that Haldir is well enough, but he is insistent, and so a warrior guard will be sent with them. Both Elrond and Galadriel have been giving him healing energy to speed his return to health. The results are noticeable but, to my mind, he is still not quite right.  
  
  
  
It matters not and I am sure they will be fine. On to more important things. Cireolas sat with Elladan and Elrohir and squealed with laughter most of the time, calling them both, ‘Ada’. He called the serving maid, ‘Ada’ too. It must be his favourite word, although he has never called Círdan or me by that name. Círdan is called ‘Poo poo’ and I am called ‘Ba ba’. The twins were most amused by his laughter and they have bought him another doll. It is a Maedhros, fully poseable action doll made by the Stiffy Toy Company, and it comes complete with removable hand and cliff face backdrop. When the hand is detached, the doll screams. Cireolas finds this feature the funniest of all. He absolutely adored his Fëanor and Mad Maglor dolls and now he has another one to add to his collection. He likes to sleep with the Fëanor doll at night and cuddles it close, babbling away to it before he falls asleep. The Maglor one has a throwable Silmaril, so we do not let him sleep with something that could choke him; however, the Maedhros one is looking to be a promising bedmate for my little spud.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
I remember my ion, Thranduil, when he was tiny. At the time, I slept with no other in my bed and he often climbed in to give me a cuddle if he woke during the night. I was advised many times not to let it become a habit, but I ask all who have elflings, how can one resist their own?  
  
  
  
The conversation often went like this:  
  
  
  
“Ada, I come to visit you because I think you might be lonely.” Thranduil would have climbed out of his cot and up into my bed and be patting my arm to wake me.  
  
  
  
I would open my eyes and smile because I really did not mind him waking me. “I was not lonely, little one. I was asleep.”  
  
  
  
That never fazed Thranduil. “Well you are awake now. Would you like a cuddle?” That always sent him into paroxysms of laughter. He was always laughing when he was tiny; he was the happiest elfling I have ever known.  
  
  
  
“I always want a cuddle off my ion,” I would reply as I pulled the bed covers over us both and gave him a cuddle.  
  
  
  
Once when he climbed into my bed, he asked if I wanted to know a secret. “Only if you want to tell me,” I replied.  
  
  
  
“It is the biggest secret in the whole world,” he said, eyes wide. “You must not tell anyone.”  
  
  
  
“I will tell no one,” I assured him. “Now tell Ada the biggest secret in the world.”  
  
  
  
“You know baby, Merilnis?” Thranduil asked, knowing full well that I did. I had held her the previous morning and she had peed on my leg. “Well I love her.”  
  
  
  
“We all love Merilnis. She is a lovely little baby when she is not peeing on the King’s leg.” My small ion laughed so much that his little body shook. It was some time before he calmed down. “I think she will be very mischievous when she is older; she has the smile that says she will be just like you.”  
  
  
  
Thranduil laughed himself stupid, as though it was the amusing thing he had ever heard. When he eventually stopped laughing, he said, “Guess what the rest of the secret is, Ada.”  
  
  
  
“I thought you told me the secret just now.” I grinned because he was so funny and I kissed his nose.  
  
  
  
“No, Ada, it is a great big secret and so there is another part to it.” Thranduil was most enthusiastic about his secret and so I indulged him.  
  
  
  
“I do not think I can guess, Thranduil. It must be a very well kept secret.” I cuddled him closer. He smelt of baby bath oil and was so sweet I could have eaten him.  
  
  
  
“It is very well kept because only I know it.” He put his finger on his lips and told me, with a solemn face, that I must say nothing. His eyes grew huge signifying that it was a very important secret, which to him it was.  
  
  
  
“Are you sure you want to tell me the hugest secret in the world? Supposing I accidently talk in my sleep and someone hears?” I knew he would tell me because he could never resist telling me everything he thought or did.  
  
  
  
“Ada, you will not tell because it is a secret and you love me so much that you would never tell anyone. You would not let your mouth tell a secret unless you wanted it to.” Thranduil looked at me earnestly and then told me that he was going to marry Merilnis when he was older. That was the hugest secret in the world and I swore I would never tell. We settled down; he slept in my arms for the rest of the night and in the morning he told me again that it was a huge secret and I must never tell anyone. I never did break his confidence and, even now, his secret is safe with me, although it is probably long forgotten in his own mind. How fortunate that no one will read this journal other than myself. Even a secret which is thousands of years old should be honoured.  
  
  
  
As elflings Thranduil and Merilnis they were inseparable. They married on her fiftieth begetting night. They still choose to spend all their time with one another and I am extremely happy for them. It is fortunate when a prince can marry the elf of his choosing and have a happy marriage rather than the disastrous farce that is sometimes the result of an arranged one.  
  
  
  
I am married to the one of my choice and my life is happy. Círdan adores me and loves me with an intensity that could never be equaled by anyone else. When I fell in love with him, I knew how Thranduil felt and it made me even happier that my ion could have such joy.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
It is bedtime now and Cireolas is fast asleep, hugging his Fëanor and his Maedhros dolls. Círdan has put the screen in front of his cot so that he will not wake up and see us making love. We will be able to hear him though. Muffy has just told me to stop writing and is gently biting the muscle between my neck and shoulder, rolling it between his teeth. It feels so good and I have to go.  
  
  
  
After giving my small ion a goodnight kiss, I will be taken to that short-lived, nowhere land of complete ecstasy. Life just keeps getting better and better!  
  
  
  
  
  
 **Morning sickness.**  
  
  
  
Mel is sulking. Glorfindel left this morning with Haldir, Celeborn and a large party of warriors, bound for Lothlórien. Elrond said that Mel is not recovered enough to make the journey and he will have to stay here. Galadriel and Saelbeth waved them off. I would have thought that they would have gone to Lothlórien too, but they have decided to journey all the way to Harad and buy some exotic goods for their new living accommodation in the Golden Wood. It goes without saying that they are both mad.  
  
  
  
“It will be so quiet around here when you are all gone,” Celebrian said to me while we walked down the rose path towards the house. Cireolas called her, ‘Ada’ and giggled.  
  
  
  
“We leave tomorrow for Mithlond,” I replied. “As soon as we get there we will have to turn around and make an official visit to Mirkwood.” I blew a raspberry on Cireolas’ cheek, because he called me, ‘Ba ba’, and he giggled. “Poo poo!” he said while pointing into the distance. Sure enough, Círdan is approaching and my little ion is shifting around in my arms. “Here take the kid and give him to Círdan,” I said to Celebrian, who grinned; she knew exactly why.  
  
  
  
“Hello, Cireolas, say, ‘Ada’ for me,” Círdan said, as he took our baby from Celebrian.  
  
  
  
“Poo poo,” Cireolas exclaimed and twisted his face as if in agony.  
  
  
  
“How comes he always shits when he is with me?” Círdan was not very happy. “Why don’t you change him for once?”  
  
  
  
“He likes you to do it,” I replied.  
  
  
  
“You hardly ever change him.” Círdan was not willing to concede defeat.  
  
  
  
“I have morning sickness,” I lied. “In fact, when I smell poo it is all I can do to stop myself from vomiting.”  
  
  
  
“Oh, I did not realise.” Círdan looked concerned. “Are you all right? Do you want to go inside and sit down?” He put his hand on my shoulder and asked Celebrian to take me inside and make sure that I am all right.  
  
  
  
“I felt all right this morning…” I start to say and, technically, I am telling the truth. I did feel all right that morning. There is no need to tell Círdan that I feel perfectly all right now when I can get out of changing a nappy.  
  
  
  
“No, you do not look very well at all, meleth.” Círdan put on his best ‘worried’ face. “In fact, I think Elrond needs to see you and sort out your morning sickness; we have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow.”  
  
  
  
“I agree,” Celebrian, the minx, said, with a look of fake empathy. “Will you be all right walking; you look quite faint.”  
  
  
  
“I will be fine,” I replied graciously, which was more than she deserved, and thank her for her concern. Damn, I tell one small lie and everything blows out of control. “I only feel sick around strong smells.”  
  
  
  
Círdan hands my pooey little baby to Celebrian, who wrinkled her nose, and he took me by the arm. “Come on, I would be failing as a husband if I did not take you to the healers and get this sorted out.”  
  
  
  
“I will be all right,” I protested.  
  
  
  
“Better to be safe, than sorry,” Círdan replied while maintaining a firm hold and pulling me towards the house.  
  
  
  
I went with him, unwillingly, but not causing any sort of scene because I am too well bred. “I feel all right when I am away from strong smells,” I told him. “This is very good of you, meleth, but I feel as though Elrond will laugh at me.”  
  
  
  
“No, he won’t,” Celebrian blithely informed me. “He will very happy that you are being so responsible with your health.”  
  
  
  
Elrond would know straightaway that I was lying. I sat on the bed in the healing room and he approached. He smelt of disinfectant and was fresh from stitching up an injured warrior, who I could just see in the next room. The heady odour and the splashes of blood over his clothing, combined with the sight of the warrior groaning in the next room, were too close to my experience when I first arrived in Imladris. Vaguely in the distance, I heard Elrond telling me that he would see me after he has changed and my next recollection was of being shaken and urged to wake up.  
  
  
  
“You passed out,” Círdan said, holding my hand.  
  
  
  
“It seems that your senses are heightened, which is normal for pregnant ellith,” Elrond says with a smirk. “I am sorry, I could not resist that.” He gave me a small glass and told me to drink the contents. Unlike most of his medicines, which normally taste foul, it tastes of lemons and the sharpness is a welcome relief to my palate.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
I remember fainting when an elfling. My nana was teaching me kingly poses in front of her bedroom mirror while my ada looked proudly on.  
  
  
  
“Look at our little ion,” Ada said, beaming with pride. “He will make a damn fine king one day. If I am brutally killed by orcs and spiders, I will still be happy because I will know that my gloriously regal and handsome young ion will inherit the throne.” He was always outrageous in his praise of me.  
  
  
  
My Nana gave me a small golden orb with a mithril eagle on top;, a small sword of state; a gold gem encrusted crown; a cloak made of solid gold thread; a large, ornate, gem-studded chain of princely nobility and a pair of solid gold slippers. Under all the metalwork, I wore a midnight blue silk suit with a diagonal white silk sash to which were fixed various medals, including the one awarded for fighting the goblin under the bed.  
  
  
  
These are your items of office, which we had made especially for you,” Nana explained. “Try doing the poses again, now that you are wearing your regalia. I think you will find that you have to maintain a more upright pose than before but it should not be too difficult.”  
  
  
  
It was very heavy and I felt as though I could not move. I looked at Ada for support; he beamed at me and motioned for me to do as I was told. I put one step forward and fell flat on my face.  
  
  
  
“It was too heavy, I couldn’t walk. I fell over,” I cried. “Nana, my arm hurts.”  
  
  
  
Ada tried to look at my arm and I screamed with pain. “I do believe he is horribly injured,” he said. “Wounded in the service of the realm, what!”  
  
  
  
“I fell over and my arm hurts,” I cried harder, tears streaming down my face. “Nana, make it stop hurting.”  
  
  
  
Ada sat me on his lap and Nana carefully removed the cloak, the chain, the sash and the sword belt. The orb was somewhere on the floor, as was the crown. I kicked the gold slippers off my feet, as Nana carefully cut the arm of my new silk suit away at the shoulder. Then she cut down the sleeve and carefully pulled it away.  
  
  
  
“You have dislocated your elbow,” she said and then burst into tears. “My poor little Oropher, my poor little baby. You are so brave.”  
  
  
  
“Now, now,” Ada said, stroking her head. “We will take our extremely brave ion to the healers and everything will be all right.”  
  
  
  
Ada, picked me up, as though I was the most delicate piece of china liable to break at any moment. I am glad he did because I was in severe pain. Nana kissed me and we went along to the healers.  
  
  
  
“His Most Gracious and Supreme Highness, Prince Oropher the Magnificent, Illustrious and Shining Star of all Arda, has dislocated his elbow,” Ada announced to the room and placed me on the bed.  
  
  
  
“How did it happen?” The Head Healer asked.  
  
  
  
“I fell over,” I said, tears still spilling over my lower eyelids.  
  
  
  
“Princes must never be seen to have fallen over,” Ada whispered to me and then he announced to the healer, without going red at all at the ridiculousness of his lie, that obviously an invisible and wicked goblin had pushed me over in a fit of jealousy because he wanted my golden slippers.  
  
  
  
The healer did not dare laugh because my mad kinslayer ada would have horsewhipped him. Instead, he asked me if I would like something to help me sleep so that I would not feel my arm being put back into place. I looked at Ada who pronounced it a good idea.  
  
  
  
I remember once when Ada was brought back from battle with a broken leg. He yelled at the healer for daring to suggest he might need some pain relief and so Nana walked up to him and sweetly said how glad she was that he wasn’t too hurt before knocking him out by punching him in the face. “I needed that…,” he mumbled before slipping into unconsciousness.  
  
  
  
I asked Nana why she had punched him and she replied that sometimes Ada needed some sense knocked into him; she added that, also, he was not acting in a kingly fashion by shouting at everyone. When he woke up he thanked her for not allowing his outrageous behaviour to continue, thereby avoiding being a bad influence on me.  
  
  
  
Anyway, back to my arm. I was given some medicine to make me sleepy and my eyes quickly closed. I felt Ada lifting me onto his lap. The healer took hold of my arm and pulled the elbow back into place. I screamed the place down, in spite of the sleepy medicine, and then passed out cold. When I woke up, my arm was in a splint. Ada held me in his arms, telling me what a brave little boy I was.  
  
  
  
It wasn’t all bad. I slept in my parents’ bed until my elbow healed and every night they told me fantastic stories about when they were elflings in the First Age. I know now that it was all lies but I did not care at the time. I was incredibly spoiled and enjoyed every moment of my recovery. It was decided that a new set of royal regalia would be made for me, which was less heavy, but just as regal. Even as an elfling I was of the opinion that they could have decided that in the first place.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
I still miss my parents. I saw them in the Halls, when I was dead, and they were still as mad as March hares. They were having a fine old time with all their First Age chums and were incredibly delighted to see me. Their friends were just as insane as they were. Maybe I will write about that another day.  
  
  
  
I asked Námo about their fate and he said that most of the early elves were totally insane by the end of their lives. They were not always responsible for their actions because of being knocked too many times in the head when in battle, and also for other reasons, which he said were too time consuming and numerous to discuss. This was taken into account when their fëar were allowed to live in the Halls, instead of being damned forever. I am glad of that, because one day, I would like to think that I would see them again and that they could meet their great grand ions. I just know that they will adore them.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
Elrond regarded me thoughtfully. “I wonder if you should stay and get some sleep for a couple of hours.” He looked at Círdan, “You will have to look after Cireolas until the sickness passes. It will be too much for Ereolas travelling and caring for a small baby by himself.”  
  
  
  
Inwardly I grinned. Círdan could not complain because I give the majority of the care as far as our ion is concerned. It would not hurt for him to realise exactly what caring for Cireolas entails. Círdan agreed, unenthusiastically, and I went to rise from the bed. Elrond told me to lie back down. “Give us five minutes,” he said to my husband, who thanked him and left the room.  
  
  
  
Elrond waited for Círdan to leave the room and shut the door behind him. “It is a bit too early for morning sickness, Ereolas.”  
  
  
  
I was unhappy that he had caught me out. “I look after Cireolas most of the time and all Círdan has to do is change his nappy once a day and he moans about it.”  
  
  
  
“I know,” Elrond smiled at me. “That is why I am not going to pull you up about being brought here on false pretences. I would like to know how you managed to pass out though.”  
  
  
  
I told him about his blood stained clothing, the smell and the warrior in the next room. He smiled widely and said that perhaps it was lucky that I had been brought to the rooms after all. “I am afraid that there is every chance that you will suffer from morning sickness if you can have a reaction as strong as that.” I was shocked. “You would never normally think twice about the conditions that made you faint. You are a warrior; you have seen it all before.”  
  
  
  
“The journey back is going to be fun isn’t it?” I replied, not relishing the prospect.  
  
  
  
“I will give you some herbs to take back with you and the recipe for your idiot healers to follow when you get back.” Then Elrond had a good idea. “Both my ionen are trained in healing and I think it would do them good to go back with you and sort out the healing facilities. Obviously, you will have to come back here and have your baby, but until then they can make sure you are all right and whip everything else into shape.”  
  
  
  
“What a good idea. Thank you,” I asked if I could go back to my rooms.  
  
  
  
“Of course you can,” Elrond laughs. “It is not as if you are ill, is it?

 

 

 

  



	12. Part 32 - Travelling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ereolas write a diary of the events on the journey back to Mithlond.

Today we leave for Mithlond. I have said goodbye to my rather worried parents. Both are concerned that the journey might be too much for me, now that I have Ereinion jumping around my insides. I told them that I feel perfectly healthy, which I do.   
  
  
  
“I wish we could come with you,” Ada Erestor said. “But I think we should stay here until Glorfindel arrives back home, so that Mel doesn’t do anything impulsive, like riding after him.”  
  
  
  
“I think you are right,” I agreed. “He will act first and whine later; you know how he is.”  
  
  
  
“I have packed something in your saddlebag for you to remember us by, although, we will see you in Mirkwood soon. Don’t unwrap it until you get home.” Ada Legolas grinned and I wondered what he was up to, but did not have the time to find out because we were about to depart. They kissed their grand ion and then stood, arm in arm, waiting for us to go. Cireolas called them both Ada.  
  
  
  
Mel ran out of the house. “Ereolas,” he shouted, which was unnecessary, as I was right beside him when he did it. “Sorry, I overslept. I am glad you did not leave until I could tell you that I love you and hope you have the best journey ever.” He was out of breath from tearing down the corridors to see us before we left. Then he gave me a big hug, kissed my cheek, took my ion and kissed him too. Cireolas called him Ada.  
  
  
  
Elrond said a few words to both of us and wished his ionen and us a safe journey. He gave Cireolas a big cuddle and was rewarded by my ion calling him ada. Celebrian laughed when he did it and so he called her Ada too.  
  
  
  
Soon after, when all was accounted for, we left. It was slightly later than intended, as Elrohir had forgotten to take his book on cake decorating back to the library and did not want to pay a huge fine.  
  
  
  
I decided to keep a diary of our journey. I am sure it will be jolly good fun.  
  
  
  
 **Day 1**  
  
  
  
Has already started.  
  
  
  
Círdan spotted a small wild boar and killed it. He cleaned and gutted it in front of me and then he slung it on the side of his saddle. We would be eating it that evening. Elladan has an itchy ass and found a small plant down his trousers. He went very red and refused to discuss it.  
  
  
  
We reached the Ford of Bruinen and decided to camp there for the evening. I caught a large fish and ate that instead of the wild boar.  
  
  
  
Círdan and I put our bedrolls together and we slept the sleep of the innocent. Cireolas slept with Elladan and Elrohir; they are his new best friends.  
  
  
  
 **Day 2**  
  
  
  
Woke at dawn and had sliced boar meat for breakfast. What an absolute joy it was. I find out that Elrohir is not keen on it either.   
  
  
  
My ion is clean and it seems the twins have changed him and washed his old nappy out. Cireolas spotted a squirrel, which he excitedly pointed to while calling it Ada. We all laugh because we think he is stupid, which he is.  
  
  
  
After crossing the Ford, we made our way past the Trollshaws. We did not go too near the woods, as the trolls might want to have us all for dinner.   
  
  
  
I took first watch at night as we were still within trolls reach. By the morning, we had taken a watch each.  
  
  
  
 **Day 3**  
  
  
  
We reached the Last Bridge. I seem to be more tired than the others are and Círdan woke me up while I was riding. I was carrying Cireolas and he was worried that I would drop him. I was rather annoyed at my carelessness and wondered what was up with me. It is not like me to fall asleep on my horse.  
  
  
  
We caught fish from the Mitheithel River and ate it for dinner. I gave a little bit to Cireolas and he spat it out. I suspect the little genius guessed that it was not milk.  
  
  
  
 **Day 4**  
  
  
  
We are halfway to Amon Sûl and the sun is beating down on my head. I feel quite sleepy. Elladan and Elrohir have killed four rabbits for our dinner tonight. I am not a fan of rabbit but in the wilds one eats what one can catch. The thought of eating any meat is making me feel slightly queasy. I wonder if I should take some of the medicine that Elrond put in my pack.  
  
  
  
I am not giving in.  
  
  
  
 **Day 5.**  
  
  
  
Amon Sûl never changes. In amongst the ruins we found tents, left by previous travelers, and a bundle of dry kindling. It can get extremely cold up here, and is very exposed, so were grateful for this.   
We were lucky enough to spot a flock of geese flying overhead. One had the honour of being our dinner.   
  
  
  
Tonight is chilly and Círdan and I will share our bedrolls again with Cireolas. I notice that Elladan and Elrohir are going to sleep in the same bedroll too. Who can blame them; it is freezing.  
  
  
  
 **Day 6**  
  
  
  
We followed the Great Road and made camp just before the marshes, which happily we will not be exploring at all. Elrohir says that he does not trust marshes, as he once lent some money to one and it never repaid him. His taste in witticisms is dire.  
  
  
  
We ate lembas and had cups of herbal tea for dinner. No animal has come within shooting distance today. It is as if they know we are going to kill them. Never mind; it sometimes happens. I actually feel like eating meat this evening because I gave in and had some of the medicine that Elrond packed for me. Isn’t that always the way?  
  
  
  
 **Day 7**  
  
  
  
We have reached Chetwood and have made camp under the trees. The inhabitants of the nearby village of Archet are keeping a surreptitious eye on us, but do not attempt to approach.   
  
  
  
We took turns at keeping watch during the night and rose earlier than usual. We did not relish becoming the focus of their attention during the day.  
  
  
  
 **Day 8**  
  
  
  
We are leaving the Great Road and not travelling through the Shire because we do not know much about the inhabitants there. If Cireolas were not with us we would certainly go that way as it would be quicker. Círdan has decided this and normally his instincts are correct.  
  
  
  
We reached the crossroads and turned right, up the Old North Road towards Fornost. We will have to pay our respects to Argeleb the Second when we arrive there. He will marvel, as he always does, at how young we look. I think it will be the first time that he has seen the Heirs of Elrond and this should please him very much. It would not be a good idea, I think, for him to know that Cireolas came from my belly. On the other hand, gossip travels faster than the water in a fall. We will have to see.  
  
  
  
I shot a swan today. It was flying high in the sky behind the main flock; it was an easy target. We ate well at dinner.  
  
  
  
 **Day 9**  
  
  
  
We pushed on and rode into the night. Stopping at the borders, we announced our identity and our intention. An hour later, we sat with, Argeleb, ruler of Fornost, enjoying a drink and a late night snack.   
  
  
  
Argeleb knew all about Cireolas being my baby but told us he was advised that Saruman had cursed our line because of Legolas’ resistance to him. In a way, it is true, as I did inherit this from Legolas, so I agreed with everything he said. How he laughed when Cireolas called him Ada.  
  
  
  
We were given a suite of rooms to use as we liked. Círdan and I slept apart and we advised the twins to do the same. It takes an elf’s eye to see the pinholes in the paintings where we could be observed. However, it felt good to be in a bed again. The simplest of pleasures are heightened when one is denied them, for even the shortest of times.  
  
  
  
 **Day 10**  
  
  
  
We breakfasted with Argeleb and his family. Valar bless their generosity. We left laden with dried meats, dried fruit, rich sultana and nut cake, spices and bread. Argeleb told Elladan and Elrohir that he was honoured that the Heirs of Elrond had visited and asked them to pass his kindest regards on to their parents, which they said they would do. Argeleb’s wife gave Cireolas a small teddy bear as a present; he squealed with delight and called her Ada, which made everyone laugh.  
  
  
  
Our direction was towards Nenuial, which in Fornost is known as Lake Evendim.   
  
  
  
That night we ate a stew made of wild roots and some of the dried meat. The bread made a good accompaniment. A small hare ran past us and Cireolas noticed it straightaway. He pointed excitedly at it and said, “Ada.” I have to take seriously the supposition that my little ion is not that intelligent and easily confused.  
  
  
  
 **Day 11**  
  
  
  
We reached the Baranduin and travelled along part of its length during our journey to the lake. I caught enough fish for all of us to have a hearty meal, when combined with the rest of the bread, and we ate half of the large fruit and nut cake. Since I have been taking Elrond’s medicine, I have not felt queasy at all. I love him forever for saving me from that.  
  
  
  
After all this time in the saddle, I will have the most lusciously toned arse muscles and so will Círdan. Damn, I so want and need sex. A quick grope between the bedrolls would be enough, but Círdan says we must think of our ion.  
  
  
  
I hope Elladan and Elrohir are missing sex as well, because if they are not there is something wrong with them!  
  
  
  
 **Day 12**  
  
  
  
Working our way around the Nenuial, we completely missed the deserted city of Annúminas and skirted our way upland until we reached the northernmost tip of the lake, where we made camp.   
  
  
  
From our position here, I can see in the distance the Emyn Uial. On the other side of the hills is the Lhûn. Following the river will eventually lead to our home. Our journey’s end is in sight, at last.  
  
  
  
Elladan told a most amusing story about how Mel was fooled by Glorfindel, over a period of time and with some help from Elrond, into believing that a monster lived in the kitchen meat storeroom in Imladris. When he saw a small black cat run out of the room he nearly pooed his pants in surprise and fright. His tormentors had secreted themselves over the other side of the kitchen and they nearly died laughing. Neither Elrond nor Glorfindel were able to go to dinner the next day, as they dared not leave the toilet. It does not do well to play practical jokes on Mel; he has Erestor’s deviousness, imagination and cunning, which makes revenge a novel exercise and a totally guilt free concept for him.  
  
  
  
 **Day 13**  
  
  
  
We are halfway through the Emyn Uial and have eaten the last of the cake. I love cake.  
  
  
  
We spent the evening singing to Cireolas, who was very miserable and crying. That evening I noticed that his first tooth had broken through; unfortunately, I was feeding him at the time. There is a tiny bruise on my left nipple.  
  
  
  
A small duck has taken to following our party and has done so since we left Nenuial. Elrohir seems to be the focus of its attention and several times it has flown up and sat on the horse with him. We do not always pick our pets, sometimes they pick us. I wonder if it Elrohir will kill it when we next need some meat? It seems impolite to ask him.  
  
  
  
 **Day 14**  
  
  
  
Hurrah! We have travelled as far as the tributary leading to the Lhûn and we all ate fish to celebrate; the duck is safe, for now. It will take another three days to reach our home in Mithlond, which I sometimes call the Grey Havens in moments of laziness. Círdan continues to correct me on this, and so there is no sex for him when we get home if he does not shut up!  
  
  
  
Círdan amused everyone with tales of Erestor when he was an elfling. Mel was not even half as naughty as my ada. He once put a live wasp in Cirdan’s mouth, when he was sleeping, and it stung his tongue. My sweet Muffy gave him a jolly sound spanking for that and I do not blame him. I love Erestor as my ada, but when he was young, and I was Oropher, he was one of the most repulsive elflings that I have ever encountered. When Mel was an elfling, he was very much like Erestor when he was young especially in appearance and manner, but not an elfling that one would cheerfully murder. Thank the Valar that Erestor is nothing like that now and that he has been a good and guiding influence on my older brother.  
  
  
  
 **Day 15**  
  
  
  
Cireolas vomited while Círdan was washing him this morning and has cried ever since. Elrohir diagnosed teething that was causing a high temperature. I hammered a hole through a gold piece and filed it smooth. Then I washed it and tied a leather strip through the hole and attached it to his wrist. He can use it to bite on until we reach home and a more suitable alternative can be found.  
  
  
  
Tomorrow we will reach the main river and travel along some of its length. We caught several large salmon and some crayfish, which pleased Elladan immensely. He tried giving a small piece to Cireolas who screwed his face up and spat it out. Will my ion ever give up suckling milk from me, I wonder.  
  
  
  
 **Day 16**  
  
  
  
Cireolas hardly slept all night. He is having a bad time teething and, at one point during the night, his fever was so high that Elladan stripped him off and dunked him in the river. He screamed the place down but this morning he is a lot better. Overall, he has been a very good traveler.  
  
  
  
We are all tired and it would be so tempting to stay another day and get some sleep, but in the long run it will be better for us all if we get home. Certainly it will be for Cireolas, who is not enjoying himself one bit. He has become very clingy and he cries if anyone but me holds him.  
  
  
  
We ate fish again for dinner and then went to sleep, all except me as I took first watch. Overnight I managed six hours sleep and after last night, where I had none at all, it is not enough.  
  
  
  
I can smell the sea.  
  
  
  
 **Day 17**  
  
  
  
The twins have found some herbs growing naturally that will help Cireolas sleep and ease his sore gums. It was an almost impossible task to persuade him to drink the tea they made from the herbs, but in the end he drank enough to make a difference. He is snoring softly and in a deep sleep. Tonight we will reach Mithlond and sleep in a real bed.  
  
  
  
Every minute and every second is closer to our goal. I am tired, feeling mildly nauseated, in spite of the medicine that Elrond made for me, but the thought that we are so near keeps me going.  
  
  
  
 **Night time.**  
  
  
  
Galdor and an accompaniment of warriors, met us as we came into sight of our castle. The sea sparkled as Ithil’s beams reflected upon the waves, which washed gently up on to the shore. The sound was balm to my fëa. I am home.  
  
  
  
After a hasty late night meal we went to our suite, after saying good night to Elladan and Elrohir at the door of their rooms. A hot bath was already drawn and scented with apricot and vanilla milk bath oil. It was absolute bliss and even Cireolas enjoyed it.  
  
  
  
We fed him some of the herbal tea from a spoon. He was not keen at first but I made it quite clear that no milk would follow until he had drunk some. In the end, I was able to lay him in his cot and climb into bed with Muffy. Both of us were too tired to do anything but hold onto each other and sleep.  
  
  
  
We are home and away from the drama of the past few weeks. Elladan and Elrohir have already started to overhaul the healing rooms and have suggested that we build a special block devoted to healing that will sit in the grounds but not form part of the castle, except by a covered walkway access. Apparently, their rationale is that the sewer system, which the present rooms are next door to, is likely to be infecting the air quality and promoting infection. The healers in the cells were given the option of punishment with a sound whipping and then a period of retraining or they could sail. None chose to stay and I cannot say that this has left me heartbroken at all.  
  
  
  
The healers in the town have agreed to provide cover, when needed, and Elladan and Elrohir are deciding upon a program of training for those who wish to study here. I expect it will become a centre of excellence, which will be most fortuitous when considering the precarious state of some of the elves who arrive here.  
  
  
  
According to the twins it will be several years before everything is complete, but the future is looking very good. Unlike the pair of kitty ears that Legolas packed as a joke present in my luggage. I suspect they have not been worn, as they say ‘Ereolas’ Bitch’ on the headband. I can see Círdan agreeing to wear them!  
  
  
  
My most pressing concern is our official visit to Mirkwood. I felt sick when I awoke and I truly wonder if I will be able to make the journey. The nausea is unrelenting and Elrond’s medicine is only taking the edge off it. My abdominal muscles are sore from constant retching and I cannot bear the thought of food at all. Elrohir has advised me that there is nothing else they can give me until Ereinion is over the three-month threshold of being formed. Apparently, Elrond suspects that certain substances can have an adverse effect when taken in early pregnancy.  
  
  
  
I did not have any of this sickness with Cireolas.  
  
  
  
Damn you Ereinion!

 

 

  



	13. Part 33 – Musings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ereolas is grateful to Elladan for finding a special plant. Alatáriël makes another appearance.

 

 

 

My life is shit and beyond a joke. According to Elrohir, this morning sickness will not stop until I am at least three and a half months into my torment of carrying Ereinion.  
  
  
  
“You do seem to be getting it very bad,” Elrohir said as he watched my head disappear into the sick bowl that perched on my lap. He stroked my back as I retched. “You won’t be able to travel to Mirkwood in your condition.”  
  
  
  
“I will have to. All the planning and arrangements will be in place.” I knew, and so did Elrohir, that I had no choice but to go. However, not all is bad because Legolas will be there and he will look after me. I am his youngest elfling after all.  
  
  
  
“We could always book an eagle,” Elrohir suggested. “I know they are not to be used lightly but surely in your case it is justified?”  
  
  
  
Círdan walked into our rooms. He sat beside me and stroked my head. I felt like an elfling’s furry pet. “Can anything be done about this?” he asked Elrohir. “I do not like to see Ereolas feeling so ill.”  
  
  
  
“Nothing,” Elrohir replied. “He refuses to delay the visit to Mirkwood.”  
  
  
  
I really do not like being talked about as if I am not there but at that point I felt so awful they could have killed me and I would not have cared.  
  
  
  
Círdan wiped my face with a wet cloth and pulled me to him. “We should delay the visit. Thranduil will understand.”  
  
  
  
“I refuse to give in,” I replied. “I will not let this rule my life.”  
  
  
  
“I think we should send you by eagle then.” Círdan kissed my forehead. “You look exhausted. Come on; back to bed for you.”   
  
  
  
I was too worn out to resist. He led me back to our bed, lifted my legs onto the mattress, which I could have done myself, and pulled the covers over me, while reassuring me that Cireolas would be perfectly fine without me. I fell asleep almost immediately.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
It was late afternoon before I awoke and I felt sick again, almost instantaneously. Círdan sat beside me and gave me some herbal tea. My hands were shaking, so he held the cup steady. I felt like a small elfling. “Elladan says it will calm your stomach.”   
  
  
  
“But Elrohir said...”   
  
  
  
“Elladan found a plant growing down by the dunes. It is unheard of in Imladris and quite rare here, apparently, but it is safe for you to drink as a tea.” He continued to hold the cup to my lips. “I think you need to eat something. You are shaking with hunger.”  
  
  
  
“I hope this works.” I took another sip. “I really want to eat. I am starving.”  
  
  
  
“It will take about twenty minutes to work, so I suggest we sit here quietly and wait,” I could feel Círdan’s hardness against my hip and I smiled. “What?” he asked with a big grin on his face.  
  
  
  
“I look and smell like shit and you still get turned on by me,” I snuggled into my husband feeling rather good.  
  
  
  
“You could have a face like a dog’s arse and I would still be turned on by you.” My rather wonderful husband chuckled and held me a fraction tighter. “I am glad you do not have a face like that though; I would have to wear a blindfold when having sex with you.”  
  
  
  
“I think I should wear one next time we make love.” My sniggering turned into a screech when he dug me in the ribs.  
  
  
  
Círdan held me again in his strong, muscled arms and told me to behave, and then he kissed the side of my face. “Let’s get you in the bath; you smell like one of Cireolas’s filled nappies.” He kissed me tenderly on the cheek, while holding my arms down so that I could not do anything to retaliate.  
  
  
  
During the bath I did begin to feel a little better, enough to have sex anyway. It was rather slow and gentle, as Círdan did not want me to do anything too strenuous, but it was sex! I had sex!!! Hurrah! Yippee! I had sex, sex, sex!!! We made love and I felt like the dangerously handsome elf that I once was, and will be again when Ereinion stops his little reign of torturous torment on my body.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
I remember when Crabbyarse Alatáriël was pregnant with Thranduil. Still unable to forgive her for her kinslayer ways, I spent as little time as I could with her. A different healer visited her every day so that she could not form an alliance with any of them. We had ten healers and so she saw the same healer only three times a month. Primarily they went to check her to make sure that she had done nothing to cause our unborn baby any harm and secondly, they went because I thought it fun to annoy her.  
  
  
  
One day, unable to bear the visits anymore, she stormed up the corridor to my rooms, with warrior guard in tow, and demanded to know why she was being checked over ever day by the healers. I gave her my special smile, the one that always infuriated her, and replied that her kinslayer ways meant that I considered her capable of harming little unborn Thranduil, and having no compunction at all about doing it, just to spite me.  
  
  
  
“But babies are new life and they are precious,” she wittered. “How could you even think…?”  
  
  
  
“All life is precious, not just that of a new born babe.” I smirked in the superior way that only a king can. “Now run along back to your rooms, unless you want to spend the night in the cells.”  
  
  
  
“You would not dare,” she hissed. She gasped with horror immediately after when I told the guards to remove her from my sight and take her to the dungeons. “How can you do this to me?” she screamed. “I am pregnant, for Valar’s sake.”  
  
  
  
“The Valar will not help you.” I raised my eyebrows in a regal manner and watched as she spat and snarled all the way up the corridor to the stairs that led to the dungeons.  
  
  
  
As soon as she was gone I called a guard to deliver a message to the jailer. Alatáriël was not to be tortured or tormented but to be treated in the manner which befitted her station, which included making sure that she ate good food and a goodly quantity of it so that little Thranduil would not starve. I also ordered that old Crabbyarse was not to share a cell and that blankets and hot water bottles be available to keep her warm.  
  
  
  
The next day I visited her in her cell. She sat on the hard wooden bed, with blankets wrapped around her shoulders, glaring at me. “I suppose you think this funny,” she spat, gathering the blankets tighter around herself thus obscuring my view of her tiny tits.  
  
  
  
“I could give you a trite answer and tell you that anything discomforting for you is highly amusing to me, but I will not.” I moved nearer and sat beside her. “What is this madness that continues to possess you?” I asked in a quiet voice so the jailer could not hear. “Why do you hate me so much that you still desire my death?”  
  
  
  
“I might ask you the same question,” she replied haughtily.   
  
  
  
“I do not hate you. I think I have treated you very leniently, considering that you tried to usurp my kingdom and plotted to kill me. I can never trust you again and nothing will ever be the same. As for desiring your death; when the traitors were executed I could have made you one of their number, but I did not. Valar knows I would have been justified.” I am tired of her evil and I always seem to be asserting my authority over her to stop any hint of the former excesses happening again.  
  
  
  
“You raped me,” she screamed. “You are just as bad.”  
  
  
  
“I would say that pushing your soul mate out of a tree to their death; plotting my demise and trying to usurp my kingdom, which resulted in many executions, all of which can all be laid at your feet, was much worse than me taking what is mine.” I replied, confident in the knowledge that I was absolutely right.  
  
  
  
“My body is my own,” she whined.  
  
  
  
“So is mine.” I was triumphant. “You had no right to try and deprive me of my body and now you are experiencing what it is like not to be in complete control of what happens to yours.”  
  
  
  
“I hate you,” she glared.  
  
  
  
“Yet you will play the game and make out that you are happy when we are in public,” I stood up. “Any deviation and I will tie you to the bed and thrash you, so that you scream in agony. In addition, I will do it in front of every warrior who guards you. Do not concern yourself that little Thranduil will be harmed; I would not hurt him, even though he is half you.” Then I looked as though I had a sudden thought. “If you cause trouble after Thranduil is born, I will slit your throat and say that it was an accident. After all, if you can be believed, then so can I.”  
  
  
  
“You are so cruel, how could you…”   
  
  
  
I looked at her, my face deadly serious, and put my fingers under her chin so that she had to look at me. “I can, because I have learned my lessons well. The Queen of Evil has shown me just how it should be done. You should be proud of me, my dear.”  
  
  
  
After leaving the cell I told the jailer to keep the bitch there until the next morning. We would both be required to visit an outlying village that had been swept away by a flood. The survivors would need help rebuilding their homes and the visit was to assess how much aid should be given and what practical, immediate measures could be put in place. I forbade Crabbyarse to wear rich clothing or jewels, as the elves had lost all they owned and did not need their noses rubbed in the fact that they were now very poor.  
  
  
  
I tire of talking about the malevolent viper. Needless to say, she was sufficiently awed by her experience in the dungeons to make sure that I had no cause for complaint for several weeks.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
  
  
I went to dinner with Círdan and managed to eat a small amount. He was very pleased with me and we left for our rooms as soon as we decently could. I drank some more of Elladan’s tea and was feeling a lot better.   
  
  
  
We lay in our bed and I snuggled into my wonderful husband’s chest. He enclosed me with his superbly sexy arms. I have a thing about arms and find there is nothing sexier than a well-built arm pulling an arrow back in the bow or wielding a sword. My arms are so beautiful and sexy that they are the stuff of legends, and so are Círdan’s.  
  
  
  
We fell asleep after a while and it was bliss. I felt normal again. Little Cireolas slept in his cot beside us. Everything was so much better than before.   
  
  
  
We had been asleep for several hours when Círdan shifted and woke me up. There was knocking on the door and we wondered who it could be. He went to the door, after wrapping a robe around his yummy body, and Elrohir stood on the other side.  
  
  
  
“Elladan won’t let me in the rooms because he has three warriors in there. He said that I will spoil the fun. I don’t know what to do.” Elrohir looked like a lost puppy.  
  
  
  
Círdan looked at me and through our bond we communicated our next move. “You could always come into bed and sleep with us,” my sweet, clever and adorable husband said.  
  
  
  
He was like a lamb to the slaughter.

 

 

 

  



	14. Part 34 - Elrohir. Part 35 – Babies, Jealousy and Sex.  Part 36 – The Halloween Ball.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elrohir has a threesome with Ereolas and Cirdan. Ereolas and Cirdan love one another - literally! What is going on behind the wall hanging tapestry at the Halloween Ball?

**Part 34 - Elrohir**

 

Elrohir was uncertain. “Are you sure it is all right?”

 

“Of course,” Círdan replied. “You can sleep in between us.”

 

I grinned and patted the side of the bed. “Come Elrohir; get into bed with us.” I gave my sexiest grin. “If you do, we cannot promise you much sleep.”

 

“Come.” Círdan took Elrohir’s arm and closed the door behind him. 

 

Our new bedmate climbed into our bed and Círdan lay behind him. He smiled. “This is nice; it is so warm in here.” 

 

Círdan gave me the most lascivious smile and ran his hand along Elrohir’s side, all the way down to his hips. His look of mild surprise invited me to kiss his slightly open mouth. My arms circled his body as he deepened the kiss, parting his legs, ever so slightly, to allow Círdan access.

 

We kissed as our hands caressed. Círdan held the bowl of oil over Elrohir’s hip, so I could dip my hand in, and then I held both our arousals together and moved my hand up and down. A soft sigh of pleasure came from Elrohir as Círdan entered him from behind. Elrohir was lost in his lust and we fell down with him. 

 

We came together and our release covered our chests. Círdan took a little longer. His hands reached over and held onto my hips as he pumped hard into Elrohir. He came with a soft sigh and reached over to kiss my lips and then Elrohir’s.

 

“Turn around,” Elrohir said to me. “I would have you this time.” I turned on my side, away from him. He took some oil from the bowl that Círdan offered and worked his fingers inside me. Círdan stroked my lips and eventually put his fingers in my mouth. I suckled on the fingers and could hear Elrohir’s breathing quicken at what must have been the most erotic sight. 

 

My secret entrance was breached and I felt filled. The soft caress of heavy breathing on my neck and shoulder, contrasted with the tight arms imprisoning my body. I could hardly move. Elrohir rolled onto his back and I lay on top of him, my back against his chest. Small movements brushed against my inner source of joy and I was lost. I was only vaguely aware of the blindfold that was passed over my eyes and Círdan tying my ankles to Elrohir’s and then on to the bedposts. All the time the small, in and out movements continued. When my husband settled in between my legs, and his mouth engulfed my hardness, I nearly died from the raw pleasure. An overwhelming overload of sensation held me in thrall and I succumbed totally to my lovers and let them do as they would with me.

 

The blind fold was untied but our ankles remain together. Amazingly, Elrohir was hard again, almost instantly and his oiled hand wrapped around my cock as I watch Círdan pumping his own. It is a most erotic sight; my gorgeous husband’s never fails to enthral me. Elrohir’s hardness moved in and out and his hand pumped my rapidly hardening cock in time with the thrusts. 

 

I was falling, and moaning my pleasure to all who could hear. Then Círdan did something totally unexpected; he sat on my arousal and I felt it pushing into his warmth. He moved up and down and I came hard, crying out, as it is almost painful. Leaning forward, my husband forced his tongue into my mouth and kissed me so roughly that I was left in no doubt as to the strength of his lust.

 

Elrohir withdrew. He grinned when I turned to look at him after Círdan untied our ankles. “I am so glad that Elladan would not let me into our rooms,” he said, trying to catch his breath.

 

We settled down to sleep after Círdan removed the screens away from Cireolas’ cot; happily, after all that noise he was still asleep; although, I think the castle could fall down and he would not wake up. I lay in the middle, my husband holding me in his arms from the front. Elrohir was already asleep beside me. 

 

In the morning, we were a tangle of limbs. Elrohir was snoring. 

 

“He is snoring,” Círdan said to me, looking judgmentally at our bedmate. “How can he sleep through so much noise?”

 

“He will wake Cireolas up,” I replied. Every morning when our little ion woke up, he was never full of smiles but grumpy and hungry and often with a full nappy.

 

We must have disturbed Elrohir because he turned over and put his arm around my waist. His snoring became even louder. I looked at Círdan, who got out of bed. “I can’t put up with that noise,” he said and walked around the bed to Cireolas’ cot and picked him up.

 

“Elrohir, you are snoring,” I said, gently jabbing him in the side.

 

“I don’t snore,” he mumbled and then fell back to sleep. He started snoring again.

 

“Elrohir, come give me a cuddle and stop your bloody snoring.” I rolled him onto his side and he opened his sleepy eyes.

 

“It is too early,” he complained and snuggled into my chest.

 

Círdan finished changing Cireolas’ nappy. My little ion was grizzling, so Círdan handed him to me. I lay him between Elrohir and myself. His tiny mouth rooted around for my nipple and he sucked greedily, pawing at my chest with his hands, much like a kitten would. Elrohir opened his eyes and was fascinated. 

 

“How does that feel?” he asked and I shrugged. “How does he suckle with a nipple ring in the way?”

 

“Same way Círdan does,” I replied, knowing it would shock him.

 

“Círdan suckles too?” Elrohir’s eyes were wide and my husband laughed.

 

“He is playing with you Elrohir.” Círdan stroked our ion’s cheek. He blew him little kisses but Cireolas ignored him, concentrating on his feed.

 

Elrohir took one of Cireolas’ tiny feet and his hand accidently brushed against mine. I wish it had not because we both saw it, a vision of the future which made last night very wrong indeed. We had no idea of what was to come when we started last night and so we are not to blame; however, we can make sure it never happens again.

 

It will be strange being related to Elrond.

 

 

**Part 35 – Babies, Jealousy and Sex.**

 

Cireolas finds the ritual of feeding and being changed extremely stressful. Every morning he wakes up crying because he is hungry. Círdan changes our baby’s dirty little bum and then I plug him on for a body-temperature milk drink. By this time, he is so engrossed in his caterwauling that it takes some time for him to realise there is a nipple is in his mouth. I absolutely refuse to feed him with a wet and dirty nappy, so he has to wait until he is changed.

 

He suckles away, growling if either of us attempts to talk to him. He paws at my breast, as a baby kitten would when suckling its mother, and when there is none left he cries suddenly and loudly. Now most nanas tell me that I should be able to anticipate when this is going to happen and swap him onto the other breast, but I cannot. There is no discernible warning, one moment he is contentedly sucking away and the next he is howling in temper. He kicks and screams, as though I have done him a great disservice, and then takes a while to calm down as he suckles again. I find the whole process most annoying, especially as he has two bottom teeth now and in his haste he sometimes bites me. Happily, I always lay against Círdan’s chest and as I become more irritated he massages my head and neck, where the muscles are tense.

 

At all other times Cireolas is very well behaved; it is just the morning ritual where he throws a wobbly and ends up shrieking as though he is in agony. At no other time does he panic because he is so hungry. We have tried waking him up earlier, but he is the same. I suppose we will just have to put up with it.

 

After the feed, we all get in the bath and play with his toys. It is much easier to wash our baby when we bathe, instead of running a bath especially for him. The spawn of Fëanor action dolls join us in the bath, along with the yellow wooden duck of doom and the Stiffy Toy Company’s exclusive ‘Little Prince’ bath toy collection. It is a fun time for our ion and it wears the little bugger out. As soon as he is dried and dressed he falls asleep for a couple of hours. Círdan and I do not get dressed; we go back to bed and stay there until the eight o’clock bell sounds.

 

This is our time for talking and we discuss everything and anything. Often it is our only chance to talk in complete privacy until the end of the day. As rulers of Mithlond, we have very busy lives. Even though we went to Imladris in exceptional circumstances it was like a relaxing holiday. Now we are back and sorting out disputes, trade agreements, points of law, taxes, sailing times and maintaining order in what is considered by some to be a frontier town, rich for the fleecing of the unsuspecting traveller leaving Middle-earth. We do many other things, like planning the new healing centre, but most days are not very different. It is very like when I was Oropher and ruled Amon Lanc. Of course, there are major differences too but, overall, life goes on and nothing really changes.

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

I remember when Thranduil was tiny. When he awoke, I would change him and take him along to Alatáriël’s chambers so that she could feed him. He never screamed or panicked, like my little brat Cireolas does; he was always smiling. I seem to remember that he dribbled a lot, but maybe he was teething.

 

I would sit and watch, much to Crabbyarse’s displeasure. To my mind, there is something soothing about watching a baby feeding, also I did not trust her. After the feed, she would talk to him and I would sit and smile. Perhaps they were her least deranged moments, where she was a loving nana to her ion. It pains me to say, because it means that I did not treat her very well, but I now suspect she would never have hurt her him. Alatáriël loved Thranduil more than anyone else; it was plain to see when she held him. I could not forget that she had murdered her soul mate and reasoned that she could do the same to Thranduil. Leaving her alone with him was a leap of faith that I was loathe to take.

 

Thranduil loved Alatáriël. I banned any criticism of her, within his hearing, so that he would have positive memories of growing up with a loving nana and not know her as the murderous bitch she was. All previous negative events were covered up, so that he would never know her true nature. He is aware of events now. There is always someone willing to be the bearer of bad news and he was very upset at first. He accepted my explanation of why I acted the way I did and saw in the end that it could have been much worse. I like to think that Thranduil is as stable as he is because he was allowed to love both of his parents.

 

Alatáriël and I would spend the morning playing with our ion. When he was old enough for lessons neither of us saw much of him in the mornings. Even though I detested her, I insisted that we sat as a family at mealtimes in the dining hall. By mutual agreement, we remained civil and one-upmanship was not pursued. Alatáriël knew, to her cost, that these games always resulted in me winning with massive personal loss for herself.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Today was Saturday. We took Cireolas to breakfast and for the first time he called Círdan, ‘Ada’. It was more by accident than design, but when Cireolas saw my husband’s delighted expression he called him Ada again. 

 

“Now call Ada Ereolas, ‘Ada’.” Círdan gave him a big kiss.

 

Cireolas, who I swear is the most stupid baby in Middle-earth said, “No, Ada.” Then he pointed at me and said, “Ba Ba. He, Ba Ba.”

 

“I am Ada,” I said to him.

 

“No, you Ba Ba.” He was quite vehement about it, the little swine.

 

Círdan smirked. “He called me Ada. He did not call you Ada.” He dipped his finger in his old elf’s porridge and put some in Cireolas’ mouth. Our tiny ion spat it out straightaway and made a face.

 

I leaned over, all smiles, and said, “Did the porridge taste nasty?” He nodded that it did. “That is because it is only for very old elves who are losing their teeth and have knobbly knees.” Of course, no such elf exists but I wanted to annoy Muffy.

 

“You cannot upset me,” Círdan stated breezily. “I was called Ada and you were not. You are jealous.”

 

He sat stroking our ion’s head and upper back, telling him what a good little boy he was and how much he loved him, when Cireolas said the words that had me howling with laughter. “Love you too, Ada Poo Poo.” He gave him a big beaming smile and blew poor Muffy a kiss, “Mwahh!”

 

“Shut up,” Círdan said to me as I laughed myself stupid.

 

“He called you Ada Poo Poo. Nothing has changed, you are still Poo Poo.” I looked at Cireolas who was beaming and laughing, at what he did not know. “What a good little elfling you are.”

 

“You are a terrible example,” Círdan scowled and plonked our ion into my lap.

 

The breakfast chef came to our table, “My Lords, we saw you giving Prince Cireolas some porridge and wondered if you would like to try some of the ground rice pudding we make for the older babies?” He presented a small silver dish with barely three teaspoons of pudding on it. “It is enough for a small baby,” he said, in reply to my questioning glance.

 

We both thanked him and I gave a small amount on a spoon to Cireolas. He loved it and finished the lot before snuggling into Círdan’s chest and falling asleep. There were lots of ooh’s and aah’s because everyone thought Cireolas looked cute when asleep, which he does. I expect they also did it because even though Círdan is the most handsome and lovely elf on the planet, apart from me, he is a tough and exacting ruler who does not suffer fools gladly and so our courtiers wanted to be seen giving their approval at how good an ada he is. Sometimes Círdan reminds me of Erestor without the bad bits; to be like him is no bad thing. 

 

As I said, it was a Saturday, so we had no court business that morning. We went back to our rooms with our sleeping ion. Círdan lay Cireolas in his cot and placed the screen against it, so that he could not see us if he woke up. He smiled at me. I smiled back and inside I was melting; I love and desire Muffy so much that I had butterflies inside.

 

“Clothes off,” Círdan said softly. I stripped in front of him as he watched. “In bed.” His eyes were half-lidded with lust and I watched his every move as I climbed between the sheets.

 

“You are so wonderful,” I breathed and he replied that he already knew, while peeling off his leggings and revealing his rampant hardness springing free. He was not wearing a loincloth.

 

He met me in the middle and we kissed. We kissed and kissed, all the time our movements becoming more frantic until Círdan oiled himself and entered me. I was so turned on that I came almost as soon as he started pumping. He slowed down and then stopped. “Not bad for an old elf, am I?” he grinned.

 

“I was joking. Cireolas calls everyone, ‘Ada’ apart from me.” I smiled and pulled my lovely husband closer. My foot was up near his shoulder and to tease me he ran his fingers along the sole, making me jump and giggle. I have very ticklish feet. I could not move as he was on top and his arms imprisoned me.

 

“This old elf can still hold you down,” he smirked, and then kissed me forcefully so that I was panting with delight and need.

 

“Fuck me,” I pleaded. “Please…Move…” I am not above begging for anything if I want it badly enough. 

 

He regarded me thoughtfully, “Hm…I don’t know if I should. You have already prematurely ejaculated once. I would not want you to embarrass yourself again.” He smirked evilly. “I don’t suppose you can help it being so young. Us old elves can always control ourselves.”

 

“What?” I said loudly and he clamped his hand over my mouth. I tried to talk but only mumbles came out; his hand was like a vice.

 

“Don’t wake Cireolas up.” He started making the smallest of movements. “If I remove my hand will you be quiet?” My eyes widened but I had no choice. He released his hand.

 

“I did not premature anything. I was turned on.” I hissed as he grinned. “I did it to make an old elf happy.”I giggled naughtily and he stopped again.

 

“Smacked arse for you I think.” He quickly flipped me over. His hand came down, almost immediately, slapping my bum cheek hard. Before I could yell at the pain, he clamped his hand back over my mouth. “Remember, Meleth, do not wake the baby up or else it all stops.” He parted my legs and entered me from behind.

 

“That hurt,” I whined, knowing that it would not make a blind bit of difference to him what I thought.

 

“It was meant to. You are a cheeky elf and needed a slap on the bum to keep you in line.” I could feel him laughing behind me as he pushed in and out of my arse. “That is how us old elves keep the younger ones well disciplined.”

 

“At least I am not ancient like you,” I giggled. “And I don’t have a furry face with porridge bits in my beard.” Actually, I make Círdan shave his beard off, so the insult was a bit redundant but I didn’t care.

 

“Be quiet now and let us love one another,” Círdan said. His breathing speeded up, as did mine, and the age-old dance continued. We came together. He slumped on top of me and kissed my neck and cheek. 

 

All insults forgotten; Círdan told me of his love for me and I told him that I loved him too. Turning over, I snuggled into his arms, my favourite place to be. His hands stroked through my hair and he kissed the top of my head. Looking up, I kissed his lips and as it deepened, my cock hardened.

 

I oiled my arousal. Round two was about to begin.

 

**Part 36 – The Halloween Ball**

 

In the evening, Círdan and I both dressed as vampires for the Halloween fancy-dress, masked Ball. We delivered Cireolas to the crèche, put him in the hands of a very capable elf maid and gave her a couple of gold pieces for her trouble. Instantly, Cireolas demanded to come with us.

 

“Want to come,” he whined.

 

“You can’t; it is for adults only,” Círdan told him. “Now you are going to have a lovely time here with all the other elflings.”

 

“Nooooooooo!” he screeched. “Go with you.”

 

“No,” I said and kissed him good night. “You have to stay here.”

 

He clenched his little fists and hit his new minder on the cheek. He is a small baby so she unhurt and laughed, which sent him into an absolute fury. I took him from her.

 

“That was very naughty, Cireolas. Now calm down,” I said firmly. Círdan stood looking outraged. “Your behaviour is well below that expected of a Prince of Mithlond.”

 

“Ada, want to be with you and Ada,” he batted his little eyelids and gave the sweetest smile.

 

“So he can call you Ada when he wants something,” Círdan snorted.

 

Cireolas reached his arms out to Círdan and beamed, “Ada.” My husband was not amused.

 

“You are staying here and that is that.” He took Cireolas off me and handed him back the elf maid. “I expect you to behave. If we hear any reports that you have not, then we will be very angry.”

 

Cireolas’ lip started to wibble and the tears formed in his eyes, then he let out an almighty howl. “Ada…Ada, come back…Ada…”

 

Círdan took my arm and dragged me away as our little ion cried and pleaded for all he was worth. It is very hard to leave a small baby when they are upset and begging you to stay. I felt incredibly guilty at doing so and wondered if I should have cuddled him to sleep before leaving. I mentioned this to Círdan, who replied that Cireolas would have kept himself awake for as long as he could. He is probably right but it did not help me feel less guilty at leaving him.

 

We made our grand entry. I have always wondered at the point of a masked ball, if one is announced upon arrival. However, the Master of Ceremonies boomed out our identities and we descended, hand in hand, through the centre of the hall, between the two lines of courtiers, who bowed and curtseyed as we made our grand entrance walk along to the sparkling wine fountain at the other end of the room.

 

After taking a glass of wine, Círdan put his arm around my waist and spoke a few words, wishing everyone a good time. Then the party started. It was not really much of a celebration at the start. Galdor introduced many dignitaries from surrounding town and villages and we spent much time in polite conversation, all of it banal and boring. Still, we gave a good impression and that is what counts.

 

“Ply them with so much drink they can hardly stand,” Círdan ordered Galdor. “I can’t have any fun with them wittering on about how delighted and honoured they are to be here.”

 

I danced with many that night and so did my love. It is required that we do so because of our position. About halfway through the evening, I saw Círdan walking to the drinks table and he was looking around for me, so I hid behind a large hanging tapestry. “Where are you?” he said through our connection.

 

“I am behind the tapestry on the rear wall,” I giggled. “Come and get me.”

 

Círdan slipped behind and I took him in my arms. “I have missed you. All night I have wanted to dance with you.”

 

“Poor Muffy,” I said and kissed his lips. We continued kissing and then I told Círdan that I knew what would make him happy. After kneeling down, I loosened the front of his shiny black leather leggings and took him in my mouth, holding onto his bum cheeks to steady myself.

 

“Valar,” he exhaled, as both his hands moved to the back of my head. “You always know exactly what to do…” It took hardly any time at all, but his muffled cry was not quite low enough.

 

“Is everything all right?” a loud voice enquired. The tapestry swung back and Galdor stood there, “Oh! Excuse me, My Lords.” He was embarrassed, as was I, because a certain something was still in my mouth. I winked saucily at him and licked my lips after letting Círdan’s softness fall from my mouth. He could not stop staring; however, he managed to pull himself together and mumbled his apologies for disturbing us before putting the tapestry back in place.

 

I stood up and kissed my husband, who growled his appreciation. “If we could get away with it I would take you to bed right now.” His hands worked underneath my shirt and he twisted the ring through my left nipple.

 

“Mmmm…let us go to bed anyway,” I knew we could not as we were required to continue socialising for a while yet.

 

“You want me now?” My husband grinned lasciviously.

 

“More than anything…” 

 

Círdan cut me short by turning me around, so that I was against the wall. Strong hands pulled the top of my shiny black silk leggings down and he produced his bottle of oil. This was not a surprise; we always carry one, so that we are never caught short when we decide to be spontaneous. He entered me and pushed home. I have no idea how I managed to stay quiet but I knew the tapestry must have been jiggling behind us. “I love you so much…” Círdan breathed into my ear after it was all over.

 

I could hear Galdor moving the curious away from the tapestry and telling them that workmen were behind it, as a small leak from a water pipe had been spotted and needed immediate fixing.

 

With my clothing adjusted and with no marks detected, I sidled out from behind the tapestry and stood beside my Chief Counsellor. “Thanks Galdor.” I grinned happily.

 

“You two have no shame,” he said while looking into the crowd and smiling politely at those who caught his eye.

 

“When we leave, you are welcome to join us. If you decline then so be it, but we intend having a whole night devoted to pleasure.” I spoke in low tones so only he could hear.

 

His expressive eyes betrayed him. “I…” My fingers touched his lips to stop his talking.

 

“Say nothing here. You have at least a couple of hours to decide. Until then…” I leered, as only I can, and walked away. 

 

Círdan had escaped from the other end of the tapestry and was telling a group of warriors the joke about the prune married to a catfish. I have heard it before, but Círdan likes telling old jokes to new audiences. I walked up behind him and whispered in his ear, “I think we have our quarry within our reach.”

 

A brilliant smile greeted me. “I knew you could do it.”


	15. Part 37 – Is it really a good idea to be so promiscuous, Galdor? (Like we can talk). Part 38 – Hmm … Maybe Círdan went a bit too far. Part 39 – The Next Day. Part 40 – Our Demanding Little Ion.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An attempt is made on Galdor's life, so why does Cirdan want to spank him afterwards? The Ladies Slash Writing Circle have a fondness for well hung horses. Cireolas demands cake.
> 
> Author’s note: Thanks to mdarkdreamerfor allowing the use of Nenuial, to Zhie for allowing the use of her self-insert name: Galade, also to Nuinzilien, Aglarien1 and Erviniae, for agreeing to allow their user names to appear in the story.

**Part 37 – Is it really a good idea to be so promiscuous, Galdor? (Like we can talk).**

 

 

The masked ball carried on for longer than either Círdan or I wanted to be there. At last, the great unmasking at midnight came around. I tore off my mask, while in my husband’s arms, and he said, “Oh there you are!” I say this for him; he is jolly amusing.

 

“Oh! It’s you,” I said to him in a somewhat contrived and disappointed tone, just to tease him.

 

“I think I will lock you in the cupboard and have Galdor all to myself,” Círdan grinned in a most attractive manner.

 

I kissed his lips and smiled. “You would miss me sweet one,” It never hurts to flirt with one’s husband.

 

Muffy leered most becomingly. “Forget Galdor. He cannot hold a flame to your loveliness. Let us depart now and love one another.”

 

“But we have propositioned Galdor now. We may never get the chance again; you know what he is like.” I look over at Galdor, he was laughing at a joke made by the ion of the ruler of a nearby human village. He is known for his feeble jokes, so I am glad I was not forced to listen to it. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw something odd.

 

Círdan saw it too. 

 

Galdor’s companion slipped something into his drink, while his attention was diverted to the other side of the room. Aloari, a rather beautiful but shifty counsellor from a nearby human village, skidded on a dropped lettuce leaf and hurt his knee. 

 

“Let’s rescue Galdor,” my lovely Muffy sighed. 

 

We walked across the floor and accidently on purpose knocked Galdor’s glass so that the contents spilt. Upon contact with the marble floor the liquid fizzed. 

 

“Poison,” Elladan and Elrohir said together. I hadn’t seen them at the ball until now, but both had Gwuran, the ion of the village leader, between them so he could not escape. I looked at the twins for an explanation. “Certain poisons fizz on contact with marble.” A ring of Elven warriors surrounded us; swords drawn and ready for action. The whole floor went quiet. We could have heard a pin drop, if anyone had thought to drop one. I drew my sword and so did Círdan. 

 

“How dare you!” Círdan hissed at Gwuran, who, to give him his due, looked absolutely horrified, but that might be because of the dagger Elrohir pointed at his neck. A thin trickle of blood escaped where the sharp tip pierced the skin. “How dare you abuse our hospitality. I should kill you right now.” 

 

He would have done so as well, except that Gwuran blustered that he was given what he thought was an aphrodisiac by one of his father’s advisers. Apparently, he told him that if Galdor drank the contents of the small bottle, now lying on the floor, he would be with him forever. “On my conscience and haunting my dreams, for certain,” he cried. “Let us go after Aloari; he is the one who gave me this.” The human in question was nowhere to be seen.

 

Meanwhile Galdor stood looking stricken. “He was going to kill me,” he gasped. Then he looked at Círdan and me, “If you had not…” He looked at Gwuran, “You thought that I would have affection for you because of an aphrodisiac?”

 

Gwuran nodded miserably. “My eyes are captivated by you. Aloari said that you would never ever consider a human lover. He offered to help me.” Then a look of realisation passed over his face. “My father will kill me for this.”

 

Poor boy, he was only twenty-one and was representing his father’s village for the first time. I thought he might cry. I told two guards to take him to his guest room and keep him there. 

 

“I wonder why Aloari wanted you dead, Galdor?” Círdan asked in a rather pointed manner.

 

“He was once my lover.” Galdor shifted uncomfortably.

 

“And?” my adorably bad Muffy asked, bluffing by adding that he already knew the answer and wanted to hear it from Galdor’s own lips.

 

“I became bored with him and found his constant attention rather trying, so I ended it.” Galdor looked much less than his perfectly poised self.He began to bluster, which is something I have never heard him do before. “All my other human lovers have accepted that any relationship with me would be based on sex, so why couldn’t he? Anyway, how can an elf have a meaningful relationship with a human; they only live for five minutes and then they are gone.”

 

“Perhaps humans do not like their affections toyed with, no matter how short their lives,” I told him, using my Oropher look of anger; it is much more effective than the Ereolas one. 

 

“I think Aloari fell in love with you. If he had not, then he would not have cared enough to try killing you.” Círdan looked so angry that I nearly swooned with delight. Inside I was growling at his incredible beauty and fighting the urge to throw him over my shoulder, take him to the nearest bedroom and shag his arse. My only one continued, “We need to arrest him because he was prepared to let an innocent suffer the consequences of his wrong doing.” He glared at Galdor before ordering the warriors to go after Aloari.

 

Absolutely right! Muffy did what I would have done when I ruled the Greenwood. The cells under the castle would be Aloari’s new home until the trial. Gwuran and his ada would need to attend, so we could keep everything absolutely transparent and fair when enforcing the law. That way elf and human relations would not suffer. 

 

We were left alone with Galdor; the twins having gone off with the warriors for what they obviously thought would be a rather jolly escapade. “Thank you for saving me, my Lords,” he said. “If it had not been for your quick thinking…”

 

“I have never tried to advise anyone about their love life,” Círdan spat angrily. “But do you think there is any wisdom in screwing every human you meet? This was bound to happen. You cannot use people and expect them to forget you in the morning.” I thought my sweet Muffy was going to explode he was so angry. “For Valar’s sake Galdor; you are my Chief Counsellor. How can I trust you when you are so promiscuous?”

 

Even I knew he should not have said that, but no one in their right mind, except for me, would ever dare to correct my awesome husband, especially when he was in full flow. Galdor looked shocked but wisely said nothing. 

 

After a full diatribe about the dangers of not being circumspect, Círdan asked Galdor what he had to say for himself. I was salivating with desire; what a turn on my Muffy is.

 

Galdor mumbled that he had learned his lesson, it would never happen again and, with his Lords’ leave, he would go and prepare the cells. “Oh no you don’t,” Círdan said with an extremely attractive and determined look on his face. “You are coming with us.” I put my hand on Galdor’s upper arm. He looked panicked and uncertain. 

 

“My Lords, I did not think you would want to...” He wittered all the way to our rooms and seemed somewhat unwilling to join us. Who could blame him, with Círdan in such a gloriously foul mood? I could enjoy the situation as I was not the subject of my adorable Muffy’s ill temper. I knew he would be extra good in bed that night.

 

“You are not going anywhere. You have acted atrociously and let the side down,” Círdan snapped at the hapless Galdor. I knew what was coming next. “You are going to be punished for your stupidity. It might teach you a lesson.”

 

“Punished? You are going to physically punish me? Oh no, my Lords…” He struggled trying to get away, but he was no match for Círdan, or me for that matter. He looked around wildly, as though someone would save him at the last minute. “What are you going to do?” he asked, panicking as we crossed over the threshold to our bedroom.

 

Círdan said nothing. He simply tied the protesting Galdor’s wrists to the bedpost and bent him over his knee. Being a good husband, I gave my sweet one an encouraging kiss on the cheek. “Now Galdor, you are going to be spanked. It is the spanking your parents should have given you when you were small. I have never met one as vain and as heartless as you. We have worked hard at maintaining good relations with the human settlements here and you are not going to muck that up because you are led around by your dick. Just be thankful I am not doing this in public.”

 

“My Lords,” Galdor cried out in his panic and squeezed his eyes shut. “I am sorry. I will be more circumspect and give up human lovers completely. I will never touch a human again.”

 

He must have been really scared or humiliated to offer that. Anyway, Círdan asked him if he thought he was stupid and Galdor hurriedly said that he did not. My sweet Muffy winked at me and raised his hand. 

 

Valar! How I love him!

 

 

**Part 38 – Hmm … Maybe Círdan went a bit too far.**

 

 

Poor Galdor. Círdan spanked him until his hand went red and he lost the feeling in it. My Muffy was so angry with him that he smacked until the delectable bottom turned a frivolously decadent shade of burning red.

 

Galdor gritted his teeth and never once cried out. Tears ran down his face, as they would mine if I were spanked as hard as that. Happily, Círdan has only ever playfully spanked me as part of sex and it has never hurt. I cannot even think how painful it must have been for Galdor. I suppose the only one who could tell me is Erestor, who I spanked one hundred times when an elfling for being an absolute, trouble making, little bastard. However, I cannot ask him as it is still a sore subject and he is my Ada after all.

 

The smacking stopped and I handed a jar of soothing cream to Círdan. He tittered because the cream would sting before calming the pain and redness. At least it did not have chilli oil in it. Elrond invented a lube infused with a tiny amount of chilli oil as a surprise for Celebrían. He hoped to enhance their lovemaking and it worked really well. He asked me to try it, to see if the effect was the same for males and Círdan loved it, it felt really good on him. I hated it; my ass burnt so badly that I had to sit in a cold bath for an hour. Every time I dried off, I had to go back into the water, I was so sore.

 

The white emulsified cream liquefied on contact with the hot red skin and Galdor hissed with the pain. “Does that hurt?” Muffy asked him.

 

“Yes, My Lord,” Galdor replied.

 

“Oh! That is a shame,” Círdan was not at all sincere. “Never mind, I expect it will stop stinging after a while.”

 

Galdor said nothing, he bore the additional pain with remarkable fortitude and I felt more than a tad sorry for him by the end. Muffy leaned over and loosened the ties holding Galdor’s wrists to the bedpost. Our victim flopped forward, so Círdan pulled him up and laid him across the bed.

 

“Your punishment is over,” he said, stroking the long dark hair of our Chief Counsellor.

 

“Thank you, My Lord,” Galdor replied. We both noticed that his body was trembling and he seemed extremely stressed, as if he could not breathe properly. “Can I go back to my room now?” he gasped in an uncharacteristically hoarse voice.

 

“Pull the covers back,” Círdan said to me as he rolled Galdor over and picked him up in his arms. He gave a slight hiss as he was turned. Muffy put him in the middle of the mattress, turned him onto his front and we climbed in either side of him. “No, you cannot go back to your room because you seem extremely stressed and so we are going to look after you and make sure you are all right.”

 

I had to hold my sides from laughing. Surely, the irony could not be lost on our Chief Counsellor. Círdan had a wide grin; in fact, he was shaking with suppressed laughter. The only one not laughing was Galdor. I reached over his prone body and kissed my Muffy full on the lips. How I wanted him and yet it did not seem appropriate with Galdor lying, there feeling miserable and still shaking.

 

“What do you think is up with him?” Círdan asked through our connection. “It was only a spanking and he is not that soft; in fact he is as tough as old boots.”

 

“Could he be a drama queen?” I asked happy in the knowledge that Galdor could not share in our private conversation.

 

Círdan said that he did not think so and it was more likely that he was extremely upset. That was all we could think of, and so we lay down beside our guest. 

 

“Galdor?” Muffy said.

 

“Yes My Lord?” 

 

“Is it still painful?”

 

“It has eased, My Lord,” Galdor continued to shake and so Círdan asked him why he did so. The strangled reply was that he felt humiliated and upset.

 

“Well of course you do,” Muffy replied. “You have just had your arse spanked. I would be very surprised if you felt any different, but there is no need to make a meal out of it.” He lay back down in a huff.

 

“Say something to him,” Círdan barked at me through our connection. I smirked, my sweet Muffy wanted sex and his plans for that had gone awry. Still, as we already had sex twice earlier on, he was hardly deprived. I gave Círdan my best smirk and he glared at me.

 

“Galdor, lay on your side facing me,” I said gently. I put both of my arms around him and held him close. He still shook, but I rubbed his back and talked softly to him until he calmed. Círdan moved onto his side, positioned himself behind Galdor, causing him to flinch, and put his arms around him too. “Let us all go to sleep and in the morning we can be friends again, all right?” 

 

Galdor nodded and positioned his head on the pillow and over my arm, which lay underneath. Red eyes shut fast and his breathing evened out as he fell into sleep. “You will have to wait until the morning,” I laughed through our connection. “You might be a Lord but you can’t have everything you want.”

 

“You will find I can,” he replied. “Lay back and enjoy what I am going to do.”

 

Through our connection, he made love to me. I felt his fingers caressing my skin and they seemed to stroke inside my body as well, all without him actually laying a finger on me. Ripples of sensation coursed through my body and he talked about his love for me, as wave upon wave of sublimity stroked me to completeness. I never even knew that Círdan was gifted enough to do this. It is considered a wizard’s enchantment and, apparently, it is employed by the Dark Lord as a favourite device because it can also be used to deliver excruciating pain. He played my body as though it was a fine musical instrument. Knowing just where to focus, he brought me to completion many times and all without touching me, not even once. I am afraid that as Galdor was facing me he became quite covered. Happily, he slept through the lot.

 

When it was all over, Círdan reached for me and kissed me goodnight, he told me again, how much he loved me and wished me sweet dreams. 

 

How I love him. He is the best husband in the whole of Middle-earth and he is all mine.

 

 

 

**Part 39 – The Next Day**

 

I really am at a loss.

 

The Ladies of the Court have very little to do and so they set up a literary writing group. They are so bone idle that I cannot even envisage them actually writing the stories; I suspect they dictate them rather than wear their wrists out by using a quill. Anyway, it concerns me because, very quickly, their stories have moved away from a diverse and wide range of topics to concentrate on slash. No ellon is safe now.

 

These ladies know nothing about the nitty-gritty of sex between two males and several of my warriors have complained that they are being asked some rather inappropriate questions, causing them severe embarrassment. The ladies always ask on behalf of a friend, a likely story, and strenuously deny being writers themselves. I must admit, even though I am a big, tough elf and built like a brick privy, these willowy minxes scare me.

 

Círdan and I intended on being very nice to Galdor this morning. We were holding him and stroking his sweet body and all the previous events of the night before were forgotten. Círdan had to emphasise this several times before Galdor, at last, got the message. 

 

The Captain of the Guard rudely interrupted us. After banging on the door so hard that I thought the doorframe might give way, he informed us that the ruler of Gwuran’s village wanted to know where his ion was. After a quick update, I dressed quickly, wondering how I could have forgotten about the young man, and went off to see to him.

 

In the corridor, directly outside my rooms, I noticed that two of the Ladies Slash Writing Circle were peeping between the legs of a statue of a particularly well hung horse. I expect the sneaky vixens were waiting to see who would come out of my room. Damn, how can one have discreet threesomes with those harpies watching?

 

I walked towards them and noticed that one was holding a quill and paper. Yes, she is the ringleader. If it were not for the wicked influence of Erviniae, I am sure the others would still be writing about sweet little kittens and composing sentimental love poetry.

 

“Good morning Ladies.” I greeted them with my brightest smile. “Are you all right hiding behind that horse?”

 

“Good morning, Prince Ereolas,” they simpered.

 

“We are perfectly all right, thank you,” Erviniae said, while surreptitiously hiding the paper and quill in her hand.

 

“May I enquire why you are just outside my rooms?” I asked pleasantly.

 

“We are enjoying the statues along the corridor,” Aglarien smiled innocently. “We are thinking of writing about them, aren’t we?” She turned to her confederate for confirmation.

 

My hand held on to the horse’s bits. “He is extremely well hung, isn’t he?” They smiled, and seemed slightly embarrassed, so I continued. “I hope you are not going to write about having sex with horses. I know what imaginations you ellith have.”

 

I could have warmed my hands on their blushes. Grinning, I wished them both a good day and walked to the village idiot’s bedroom to meet his ada. On the way I warned Círdan, through our connection, that the two minxes were spying on our door and told him not to let Galdor out until he was sure he was not being observed.

 

The head of the village was extremely obsequious when I informed him of the events of the previous evening, as well he should be, Círdan and I own the land his village sits on.

 

“Are you convinced that my son is blameless?” Hamo, the leader of the village asked.

 

“It is apparent that he was set up by your Chief Counsellor, Aloari.” I said consolingly. “Gwuran was horrified when he realised that he could have killed Galdor; even more so when he realised that he had been set up to take the blame.”

 

This did not seem to help. “I have told him time and time again that you can’t trust anyone, least of those who seem the closest.”

 

“It matters not,” I said smoothly. “We are elves and we can sense innocence.” I led the way to the dungeons staircase. I hope you do not mind but we have taken the liberty of punishing Aloari. I do not think he will ever dare to cause trouble again.”

 

“Why would he try and kill Lord Galdor anyway? None of the other men in the village have ever tried to kill him. He has had just about all of them.” Hamo seemed genuinely mystified. 

 

“We knew he had a penchant for human men but not to the extent that was revealed to us yesterday.” I opened the door. “Galdor has received punishment for his part in this.”

 

“What part?” Hamo demanded to know as we descended the steps.

 

“Galdor has been quite callous with Aloari’s feelings. If he had not been, it would never have come to this.” I opened the cell door window and in the corner sat the human, shaking and beaten. “You can take him back to your village now. We have not killed him because Galdor was unharmed. However, we suspect he was trying to kill two birds with one stone.”

 

The implication was not lost on Hamo, “Aloari declared his love for my son some time ago and Gwuran rejected him. He is twice his age. Besides, he did not love him; he sought the power my son would have when I am gone. It takes a certain type of man to do such a callous deed.”

 

“He loved Galdor and when the affair ended that seemed to be his breaking point. If anyone has been callous then it is our Chief Counsellor. Aloari is simply maddened with grief for a love that is now gone and probably was only ever one-sided anyway. It seems that he cannot take rejection and that is why he involved your son.” I took hold of the door handle. “Take Aloari home and care for him. He is not in his right mind.” The door opened and Hamo asked me if I minded him going in alone. I closed the door behind him.

 

Walking away, I heard a guttural, agonising cry. Hamo walked out of the cell, his face determined and set. On his sword was the bright stain of fresh blood. I was horrified and could only stare as Hamo wiped his sword and said, “He ceases to be a problem now. Do with his body as you will. I would like to see my son now.”

 

“So you can kill him too?” I asked in horror. I am a warrior and I have killed many, but never because they seem to be a problem.

 

“No of course not,” Hamo laughed. “He will be hailed as a hero for foiling a plot to kill one of Mithlond’s highborn.” 

 

“But it was Círdan and I who foiled that, not your son.” I will never understand the devious ways of humans; they lie without blushing, make heroes of their criminals, and admire the crafty and duplicitous above those who live by any decent moral code.

 

“Who in my village will believe that? You know yourself that history is written by the winners and as it is very unlikely that anyone in my village will ever read your chronicles. Therefore, the lie remains safe.” Hamo seemed so sure of himself but, to me, Gwuran seemed not to be the sort of young man who would embrace such a deception easily. Still it is the way of humans to seek the easier way and so I could see a time when convenience would overrule his heart and he would become as his father, who was like his father before him. It is sad when one sees events constantly repeated because no one has the wit, or the will, to change anything.

 

Through our connection, Círdan had been listening to our conversation. He advised me to take the murderous Hamo up to see his son and to wait there until he arrived. Galdor was to remain in our bed because naughty Aglarien and Erviniae were still studying the statues in the corridor. 

 

We met Círdan at the top of the dungeon stairs. “Did you lock our door?” I asked him.

 

“I forgot,” He considered for a moment. “You don’t think…”

 

“Yes I do.” 

 

“They would not dare,” Círdan said his face betraying that he knew they would. “They are in for the most dreadful of spankings if they do.”

 

“I get the impression they would enjoy that and write about it afterwards. You will have a whole queue of ellith standing in the corridor outside our rooms, saying, ‘Spank me next Lord Círdan. It is my turn now’.”

 

“No wonder we humans think that elves are bloody strange.” Hamo grinned. “If I spanked my wife she would kick my arse all the way to the fishpond and back.”

 

“Hamo, why don’t you tell it as it really is? Aloari tried to set your son up and you killed him for it. You lose nothing by presenting the facts as they are.” Círdan said. “We will record it as it really happened, regardless of what you present to your village.”

 

“I cannot afford for my son to appear weak. There is much waiting in the wings for those who would try to seize power. One day I might not be able to fend them off, but I hope my son will. Reputation often counts for more than actual deeds and you know that very well.” Hamo did not seem happy about it but we understood his logic. Círdan’s reputation among those who do not frequent our court is erroneous but works to our advantage. He is portrayed as a mild mannered, inoffensive and somewhat weak elf, which is laughably untrue; he is anything but. You do not get to be the ruler of your own realm and stay alive for as long as he has without being extremely tough. When I was Oropher, I was considered one of the hardest, most insane elves alive, a view I dispute, but even so I was not a patch on my Muffy.

 

We left Hamo with his ion and told the four warriors in attendance that if there were any indications that Gwuran might be in danger then they were to hold both prisoner.

 

We did not need to worry. Hamo and Gwuran joined us for breakfast and afterwards they made ready to depart with many good wishes and felicitations for the future. Hamo showed a small baby bangle to me, made from carved gold, and enquired where my ion was. 

 

“I forgot about Cireolas,” I said to Círdan, who thought that I was extremely funny. “Come with me Hamo, you can give him the bangle yourself.”

 

Círdan and Gwuran followed behind with my husband making smart remarks about how pissed Cireolas would be that I had taken so long to pick him up from the nursery. He was sitting on the elf maid’s lap and she was singing to him the song about the leper who lost his fingers and toes, doing all the hand actions, while he chuckled away. As soon as he saw me, he started to cry, as though he had endured the most terrible of times. I handed him to Círdan, who told him to shut up.

 

“After you left, he cried for about a minute.” Cireolas’ carer told us as she gathered up his belongings and put them in a bag. “There were a few tears when he woke this morning but generally he has had quite a good time.” I took the bag, thanked her most prettily, and gave her another gold piece as an apology for not picking him up until after breakfast. She was very happy and told me that if I needed her services again she was more than willing.

 

Cireolas stopped crying and waved to her. “Bye bye, Ada,” he said to her, which made everyone laugh. We all went down into the courtyard and Hamo fitted the gold bangle on my ion’s wrist and gave him a kiss on the cheek. We watched as they rode off and my little boy waved to them.

 

When they were out of sight, Cireolas looked down at his bangle and said, “Look, Ada.”

 

He called me, Ada!

 

 

 

**Part 40 – Our Demanding Little Ion.**

 

Alatáriël’s nana, Nenuial, was granted the right to call herself ‘Queen’ after Gil-Galad chopped her revolting husband’s head off. He advised her to move her realm when Sauron’s tentacles of darkness threatened to engulf her new queendom, granting her lands south of Harlindon, on the estuary of the Baranduin. It really is very beautiful there. The Blue Mountains make a stunning backdrop, to the main town overlooking the sea. Círdan and I own a small fifteen-bedroom holiday cottage there, which juts out over the sea from its cliff base; a rather generous wedding present from Nenuial, who had it designed especially for us. We intend to spend a couple of weeks holidaying away from the stresses of court life when we come back from Mirkwood and I was looking forward to it.

 

Nenuial is fully aware of Alatáriël’s wrongdoing and does not blame me in the least. She always did adore me. When I was reborn she made it very clear that I was still family. Even though I am now Ereolas, to her, I will always be her ion-in-law, and she even likes Círdan. They get on very well together. When I was wedded to him, she said that this was my chance for happiness. Nenuial was trapped in a marriage to the abominable Prince Coamenel, before Gil-Galad killed him, and knew only too well the awfulness of my marriage to the devious snipe, Crabbyarse. As she is fond of saying, Alatáriël did not fall far from the tree.

 

My nana-in-law is coming for a holiday. She will also be ruling Mithlond while Círdan and I visit Mirkwood. We do not trust Galdor to wholeheartedly rule in our stead after the spanking my husband gave him. Instead, we are taking him to Mirkwood as our personal advisor. Nenuial and her niece, Galade, are looking forward to meeting little Cireolas for the first time. She has already written to say that, as he is Thranduil’s half-brother (as well as being his great grand ion), that technically she is his grandnana and expects him to call her so. I have no problem with that; she was a very good grandnana to Thranduil and will be to our ion.

 

I see happy times ahead and I am very excited; we are all looking forward to seeing her. Those slash writing ellith will not have it so easy with Nenuial around. I found out last night from Galdor that Erviniae and Aglarien interrogated him in the gardens during his morning stroll, after losing their nerve when intending to enter my bedroom and question him there. He assures me that he said nothing. In their disappointment, the Ladies informed him that they would have to use their imaginations, in the absence of his cooperation, and write it down as though it really happened. He is rather worried about it, but we shall see what happens.

 

Writing about my youngest ion reminds me of last night when he awoke in the early hours and demanded cake. At first, he was quite sweet about it and called me Ada. Círdan is right; it is only when he wants something that he addresses us correctly.

 

He sat up in his cot and held onto the upright bars. “Ada…Ada…”

 

I turned over and sleepily opened my eyes. “What is it little one, can you not sleep?”

 

“Cake..Ada, cake.” He smiled hopefully at me with big blue eyes and the most beautiful smile.

 

I looked lazily at my most favourite elfling in the whole of Middle-earth. “You do not want cake, sweet one. Now go back to sleep.”

 

“Cuddle.” Cireolas stood up so that his head poked above the top of the vertical bars. I reached over, picked him up out of the cot and settled him in-between Círdan and myself.

 

Círdan stirred. He opened his sleepy eyes and smiled at our little boy. “Hello Cireolas.” His finger stroked the soft downy cheek and he kissed him.

 

Cireolas looked at Círdan with earnest eyes. “Want cake.” He gave the most appealing and cheeky smile.

 

“It is the middle of the night, little one. It is time to sleep.” Círdan grinned as he continued to stroke our baby ion’s cheek. “Close your eyes.”

 

“Would you like some milk instead?” I asked.

 

The little orc’s face changed. “WANT CAKE…NOW!”

 

“Who do you think you are talking to?” Círdan said in his most serious of tones.

 

“YOUUUUUUUUUUUU.” Our small ion was furious. “CAKE NOWWWWW!”

 

Apart from me, Cireolas is probably the only one in Arda who is not in awe of my wonderful husband. I do not know if that is a good thing or not, in view of his behaviour. He started to kick his tiny legs and threw a tantrum on a scale comparable to the master, Melpomaen Erestorion.

 

“Shut up, you little git,” Círdan laughed. “You will learn that there is a way of asking for things. Now go to sleep.” He picked our little baby up and put him back in the cot. After a few minutes of screeching and yelling, Cireolas fell asleep.

 

Earlier in the day, at dinnertime, I soaked a small piece of cake in milk and fed it to the little brat. He loved it and wanted more, so I obliged. I see now that I should not have done; over indulgence is ruining him. I do not want a Melpomaen Mark II living with us. I mentioned this to Círdan and he said that I think too much and invited me to snuggle into his arms.

 

I must have slept in the same position all night. I woke up with Círdan’s arms around me, and it is a position that I would happily remain in all day, if it were practicable. He smells of a most attractive warm sweetness, which I am sure if bottled would sell out immediately. Sometimes he tells me to stop sniffing him, especially when we are in public, but I cannot help it. Anyway, I have noticed him sniffing me too, so obviously he thinks my scent is absolutely divine, which I would imagine it is. Stroking his face, I kissed him on the lips. Soft, almost feather-light, and yet it was enough to wake him. He murmured his love for me and kissed my lips. The kiss deepened and his arms tightened their hold around me. Our lips crushed together as our tongues caressed. Our passion caused us to kiss almost bruisingly hard. Círdan forced me onto my back, taking hold of the oil from the bedside table as he did so.

 

“What you doing?” An innocent baby voice piped up. We both stared at our small ion in mortified surprise.

 

“Damn; we should have put the screen around,” Círdan said his cheeks flushing red. “That could have been embarrassing.”

 

“We should let him sleep in his own bedroom.” 

 

“Not until he is older. Imagine how frightened he would be if he woke up in a dark room without us there.” Círdan rolled off me, pulled the sheet around his middle and lifted our small baby from the cot. “Did you sleep well little one?” 

 

Without waiting for an answer, Cireolas was handed to me and I plugged him on. He drank greedily, making little slurping noises and pawing at my tit as babies do when feeding. Círdan moved behind me, so that I could lie back against his chest and his arms encompassed both of us. 

 

After a while, I was sucked dry and our baby had fallen back to sleep. Carefully I laid him in his cot and pulled the screens around, so that if he woke up he could not see us; we are both masters at keeping silent. I pointed out to Círdan that when the screens are around, it was like Cireolas being in his own bedroom but he will not bend on the matter. Sometimes one has to accept that one will never win a particular argument and give in gracefully.

 

We kissed and kissed. Lips pressing together, almost tentatively at first, then harder as our tongues caressed. I could not hold myself; Círdan undoes me every time. I will always be his to do with as he pleases and he knows it.

 

Círdan fulfilled my anticipation when his oiled cock pushed into me. He is divine and his skilful attentions carried me away as sublime thrills of ecstasy spread in increasingly intense waves over my willing body. My muscles contracted causing my back to arch when I reached my peak. As I called out my pleasure, he clamped a hand over my mouth and whispered for me to be quiet.

 

Flipping me over, he entered me again and after a few more thrusts he buried his face in the back of my neck and held on tightly as he came. How I wished we could do this all day; his attractiveness never diminishes and my love for him increases with every minute of our lives. I am told all the time that my wonderful husband loves me and I know from his lips this is true. I adore him and wish for no one else; all pale when compared to him. 

 

I turned over and grinned at my love. “Are you going to run the bath or shall I?”

 

I was given the most astounding kiss before Círdan would answer. “Anything for you, Meleth.” He kissed me again then arose from our bed. 

 

Pulling the screen back, we saw Cireolas sitting in his cot, playing with his Fëanor and Maglor action dolls, and telling them, “Say oath…say oath…” I doubt he heard a thing, so quiet was our love.

 

I wonder what the next doll in the series will be.


	16. Part 41 – My Mother-in-Law Arrives; She is Most Amusing! Part 42 – Meeting the Minxes.  Part 43 – Milk time!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Queen Nenuial visits and is interested in writing slash. Cireolas demands cake. Ereolas grants one of Cirdan's sexual fantasies!
> 
> The chapter 'Milk Time' is for Erviniae , who is a very, very bad influence on me!

**Part 41 – My Mother-in-Law Arrives; She is Most Amusing!**

 

Hurrah! My mother-in-law ship has been spotted sailing across the bay, so we took Cireolas to greet her. 

 

“Look Cireolas. There is Grandnana Nenuial. She is waving to us.” I took his wrist and waved his tiny hand, to show him what to do. “Shout out, ‘Hello Grand Nana’.” I just knew she would love him.

 

“Why?” he asked.

 

“Because she has come to see you on a big ship.”

 

“Want cake.” Cireolas looked at me as though I were the most stupid elf on earth. “WANT CAKE! NOW!”

 

“Stop that at once.” Círdan barked. Cireolas sat in my arms with his bottom lip poking out and a small tear running down his cheek. He is so like his Uncle Mel. I gave the brat to my husband; there is only so much a dangerously handsome, ex-king can take.

 

The ship drew into the dock. Holding ropes were thrown over the sides and the ship secured before the gangplank was let down. Nenuial stood waving imperiously at all who watched her disembark from the ship. As usual, she wore her customary black silk dress and leather boots, which, she once told me, go all the way up to her thighs. A large black leather cape covered her shoulders; it was held in place with mithril clasps. In her hand, was the stick she liked to carry at all times. Being born of a time when danger lurked around every corner, it was her habit to carry a stick with a hidden blade that protruded several inches if the catch was sprung.

 

“Nana,” I said as Nenuial alighted onto the dockside. “I am so pleased to see you.” My nana-in-law said how overjoyed she was to see me again, which of course she would, and then Círdan introduced her to Cireolas.

 

“Are you a good little boy?” she asked him, after much cuddling and saying how handsome he was. Cireolas held up his Fëanor doll, which I told Círdan not to let him bring along, and he told her to swear an oath. She thought it was extremely funny and said how advanced the little orc was. We moved on to her niece, Galade, and greeted her warmly. It was no secret that Nenuial was looking for a husband for her. Finally, I greeted Nuinzillien, Nenuial’s lady-in-waiting and constant ‘companion’ for hundreds of years.

 

We decided that Galdor should accompany Galade back to our castle. He is unacceptably promiscuous and Círdan and I both feel that he should settle down with a nice elleth and not get into any more trouble. We really cannot approve of his recent behaviour at all. He has brought this upon himself. I did mention to Círdan that Galdor prefers ellon but he asked what that had to do with anything, in light of the circumstances. He is right, of course.

 

Nenuial and Nuinzillien travelled back with Círdan and me. Cireolas sat on his grandnana’s lap and delighted her by telling her about cake. He never shuts up about cake and is proving to have a very one-track mind about the subject. 

 

“You have changed, Ereolas,” Nenuial said to me. “You look exactly like your old self now. I always thought that you were more handsome when you were Oropher.” She turned to Nuinzillien, who was looking out of the window of the carriage, and poked her in the bottom with her stick, much to my little ion’s delight. “Doesn’t Ereolas look better now?”

 

“Yes, I suppose he does.” Nuinzillien rubbed her bottom and glared at my chuckling ion. “I was trying to see if I could spot Galdor and Galade’s carriage.” 

 

Nenuial gave a superior smile to her companion. “Cireolas is so lovely, is he not?” 

 

“Yes, he is adorable,” Nuinzillien gave Cireolas a smile and he leant forward.

 

“Want cake,” he said as if conspiring with her.

 

“I am sure your adas will give you some when we get to the castle,” Nuinzillien replied and held his little hand.

 

“Adas mean to me,” my little vulture plaintively told her. 

 

“I am sure they are not,” Nenuial said jiggling him up and down on his knee.

 

“They very mean, Nana,” Cireolas’s voice rose slightly and Círdan told him to button his lip. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! YOU MEAN, YOU ROTTEN! WANT CAKE. WANT CAKE NOWWWWWW!”

 

I took the tiny troll from my nana-in-law and held him close, “No cake for the rest of the day if you continue with your naughtiness.” I sat him across my lap and put my arm around him to keep him still. My other hand was placed on the side of his face, so that his head was against my chest and he could hear my heartbeat. It works every time. He was soon asleep, with eyes shut and mouth slightly open. Círdan gave me his baby blanket and I wrapped him in it. He stayed asleep until lunchtime.

 

We arrived home and went straight to the Hall of the Crystal thrones, so called because our thrones are made of mithril-veined crystal, mined from under the mountains of Khazad-dûm. The dwarves carved two large lumps of rock crystal into thrones as our wedding present gift. When Cireolas was born, a tiny little throne was sent as a begetting day gift. From the ceiling hang many large chandeliers that we had made with the remaining crystal, and on the walls are the original large mirrors from floor to ceiling in solid gold frames with glorious battle scenes commemorating Elven victories painted onto the panels between. On the ceiling are the Valar looking down on us, and at their feet are the heroic, fallen elves. Among them are Oropher, Glorfindel, Ecthelion, Gil-Galad Ereinion, Fingon and Fingolfin. There are, of course, many other famous elves depicted but they are in the background. The ceiling was painted about a hundred years after my death, when I was Oropher. Círdan was told in no uncertain terms by Elrond that Gil-Galad should be included in any line up of Elven heroes. By then, Elrond was a much venerated and respected leader in his own right and had his own realm, which Gil-Galad granted him to keep him away from Erestor. There was no love lost between Elrond and the High King, but he has always liked to keep up appearances. In addition, watching an up-his-own-arse elf lord having a hissy fit, while wearing one of his new bride’s pink nightdresses, cannot have been a pleasant sight for my poor Muffy.

 

At the back of the extremely large room a lunch buffet was laid out on a large oak table for our visitors, complete with a welcome cake in the shape of a swan. Too bad Cireolas was asleep. I was holding him so Círdan put some food on a plate for me. Nenuial and Nuinzillien ate hearty portions but no one knew where Galdor or Galade were.

 

“They are fully grown elves,” Nenuial said to me and chuckled. “They are probably getting to know one another.”

 

“Well, it is terribly bad form, Nana,” I replied.

 

“Lighten up, Ereolas,” Nenuial said. “You place too much store on the rules of etiquette. I am sure that if someone farts in public you would have them sent to the cells for a year.” She gave a hearty laugh.

 

“Well why wouldn’t I? It is a serious breach of etiquette to do a stinky in this room,” I said plain faced, but wanting to laugh along with her.

 

Nenuial laughed again, “Did you hear that Nui, he calls a fart, a stinky.”

 

Nuinzillien grinned, “Why not just call it a fart?” she asked.

 

“Ah! We do not want our dear little ion here to pick the word up. He is already rather embarrassing about the subject of cake and has a rather unhealthy obsession with making elves swear oaths to his Fëanor doll.” Círdan rescued me and Nenuial stopped laughing, saying how sensible we were.

 

“That reminds me,” Nenuial said. “I have a present for Cireolas. It is a fully poseable Celegorm doll complete with Huan, his hound. I ordered it several weeks ago from the Stiffy Toy Company and it arrived minutes before we set off.”

 

“He is rapidly acquiring the collection,” I told her. “He only has four more to collect and then he has the lot.”

 

At that point, Cireolas woke up and started to cry. “Look Cireolas; cake!” Círdan said to distract him.

 

He stopped crying and said, “Want cake.”

 

Normally I would mix the cake with some of my breast milk but I did not feel like wopping my tit out in front of my nana-in-law. I took some of the pouring cream, in a silver jug meant for the strawberries alongside it, and mixed it with a slice of cake so that it was mush. I gave a spoonful to Cireolas and his face was transformed. “Mmmm. Cake.”

 

He ate all of it and then had a drink of fruit juice. Because my ion was awake and I was feeding him, I felt full of milk and had no way of expressing it until later on. Círdan gave me his sexiest grin. 

 

“Show Nenuial and her lover to their bedroom and get her to take Cireolas.” He kissed me lightly on the lips and his hand surreptitiously caressed one of my milk-filled breasts. “You want this to go away, don’t you?”

 

Mmmm! I can always rely on my kinky husband to meet my needs.

 

 

 

**Part 42 – Meeting the Minxes**

 

During the reception in the Hall of Crystal Thrones, my nana-in-law, dear Nenuial, and her companion, the Lady Nuinzillien, happened to be cornered by Erviniae and Aglarien. I ran forward and was just in time to hear Nenuial barking out what a splendid idea it was of mine that a ladies slash writing circle was set up.

 

“Nana, I had nothing to do with this venture,” I said earnestly, as Aglarien simpered and smiled. Erviniae gave me an ingenuous look of such knowingly false innocence that I could have slapped her. However, I am not going to indulge any of her fantasies, no matter how unwitting she has caught me. “I do not approve of it at all.”

 

Nenuial laughed and so did the ladies beside her. “You think that I am shocked, young Ereolas. Do not worry; I think it is one of the best ideas you have come up with and it doesn’t do you well trying to deny something because you are afraid that I might give a less than positive reaction.” I was being told off by nana, for something that I had not done.

 

“Your Majesty,” Aglarien said to Nenuial, trying to rescue the situation. “Lord Ereolas agreed to the writing group but had no idea of the content. For a long time he was looking forward to a story about a fluffy little kitten called Finwë.”

 

“Was it a slash kitten?” Nuinzillien asked. I stood staring at Aglarien, having no idea what she was talking about. 

 

Círdan had given permission for a writing group. Neither of us knew anything about a kitten called Finwë or that the ellith involved would get bored and start writing slash, using actual elves living in the castle for their storylines.

 

“No, it was just a kitten,” Aglarien replied with the most innocent of sweet smiles.

 

“Wasn’t worth writing about then, was it?” Nuinzillien said, without realising she is now at the top of the list of ellith that I will get a stunning revenge upon.

 

Nenuial looked at me, “Was it a story for Cireolas?” 

 

“I don’t know anything about a bloody kitten,” I said quietly as I leant forward to speak in her ear.

 

At that point, the sneaky Erviniae produced a small scroll and gave it to me, curtseying as she did so. “Lord Cireolas, I know it was some time ago that you expressed an interest, and you might have forgotten, but here is the story about Finwë the kitten. We finished it this morning.”

 

I was too polite not to take it. I looked at Sauron’s wet nurse, daggers showing in my eyes and smiled tightly. “How remiss of me. Thank you, Lady Erviniae and you too Lady Aglarien. I look forward to reading it.” Nuinzillien was now knocked off the top position of my list and the two harpies, indulging in yet another curtsey, were sharing top place.

 

Obviously, they had cooked the little scene up between them, and had probably practised several scenarios in anticipation of my reaction. Writing the story was a devious masterstroke, but now I know what I will do with them. I think some training in affairs of state and diplomacy will do them good; they have already proved that they are cunning and crafty enough to do the job. In Lothlórien, the current set of ambassadors are due to have a break in five years time. Círdan and I like to move our subjects around, so they stay fresh and gain a wider knowledge base than if they continue in one place. I know that Erviniae and Aglarien value their positions as idle and rich courtiers, but that is going to change. They cannot refuse their Lord if he wishes them to take part in running the realm. I wonder if they realise that.

 

Their days are numbered. I am saying nothing until Nenuial is safely back at home. I smiled, then looked with astonishment as Nenuial told the harpies that she also wrote slash and is encouraging Nuinzillien to do so as well.

 

“My niece Galade writes epic amounts. Not all of her stories are slash, but they are still very good. Now when does the group meet? We would like to take part?” Nenuial was always direct and to the point.

 

“Your Majesty, we are honoured.” Erviniae gave a deep curtsey and so did Aglarien.

 

“Yes, yes, just answer the question.” Nenuial was not known for her patience, which caused me to grin somewhat. Nuinzillien tutted and both ladies stood up quickly and told her that they had a meeting the next morning in Erviniae’s rooms. “Right, Nui and I will be there. Hopefully, Galade will be back from her gallivanting by then.” 

 

I watched Nenuial and Nuinzillien cross the floor to talk to Elladan, Elrohir and Silimaurë, the Captain of our Guard, who happens to be Erviniae’s long-suffering husband. I did not need to worry about what any of them would say, as they are very circumspect. I smiled at Silimaurë and he grinned. He knows his devious wife’s machinations and finds them an endless source of amusement. Luckily he finds her adorable. I wonder how he lives with such a minxy elleth.

 

The reception ended, Cireolas had eaten some cake and cream and Galdor and Galade had still not turned up. One of my spies reported that she had expressed a desire to visit an old friend, who would be sailing soon. In that case, who could blame her for missing a formal reception? According to the spy, Galdor was worried that he would be in trouble; it would be a simple matter to reassure him. What a relief that they were safe. Círdan told me that he suspected Galade must be wilful indeed for Galdor to be swayed from his objective.

 

“It seems like we are surrounded by minxes,” I said unhappily.

 

Círdan took our small ion, who was dozing on and off, and we walked over to Angaráto our seneschal. “Show Queen Nenuial and her party to their rooms and see if you can procure a babysitter. We wish to spend the afternoon in peace.”

 

Angaráto took our baby and told us that his wife, Aglarien, would be more than pleased to look after him. “After all, she has nothing better to do with her time.” He caught his wife’s eye and beckoned her over. “Agie, my dear, we have a small guest this afternoon. He can come with us on our walk to the market.” 

 

“How delightful,” Círdan said and asked a servant to get the baby stroller from what would, one day, be Cireolas’ own room. “You must behave yourself and not make them swear fealty to your dolls,” he said jokingly to our small ion.

 

Aglarien took our baby orc and held him in her arms. “It is a pleasure, my Lords,” she said sweetly and then smiled at her husband. “We could take him to the Punch and Judy show in the market. I am sure he will love that.”

 

We left the hall after arranging to meet Nenuial and Nuinzillien at dinner that night. By this time, my chest was so full that it was almost painful. 

 

I could not take my clothes off fast enough. Círdan was already hard. There would be nothing slow about our union. I held onto one of the tall bedposts, as he quickly oiled himself and entered me from behind. It was furious and quick, such was our desire. When we were both spent, he kissed me and took me in his arms, guiding me to sit on the edge of the bed. He knelt on the floor and began drinking from me. 

 

How good it felt.

 

 

 

**Part 43 – Milk time!**

 

 

There is nothing like watching my husband drinking my milk with his head nestled against my chest. He looked up at me with lust-darkened eyes and rose up, mouth full of milk, and kissed me so that we shared the fruit of my body.

 

Muffy’s tongue slid over mine, the sweetness flowed into my mouth and I swallowed. He left a trail of milky licks and kisses down my neck and then took my other nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, while I held his head to my chest. Small zinging strands of pleasure coursed through my nipple as he sucked. Thank goodness that never happens with Cireolas. A small stream of milk from my other nipple dripped down onto my belly and Círdan smoothed it into my skin.

 

“Lay back,” Muffy said softly, and as I did he looked at me with such lust that I felt every hair on my head stand up and a thrill of anticipation run through my body. He leaned forward and sucked again. With mouth full, he hovered over my belly and let the white liquid spill from his mouth into my navel. He lapped at it until it was all gone and then he came back for more.

 

After his kitty impersonation, Círdan took my hardness into his mouth, which was full of milk. It felt warm, as though I was stirring a rapidly cooling cup of tea with it, which of course I do all the time! Jollity aside, it was a new experience and I expect it was new for Muffy too. He sucked and swirled his tongue around my arousal, all the time keeping his mouth full of my milk. In the end, I could take no more and my memory of that orgasm was his deep blue eyes looking up at me, before my own squeezed shut as my back arched up and my whole body contracted.

 

I felt Muffy licking my belly, and then he lay on top of me. Once again, he shared my taste with me. I was breathing heavily by this time and I watched as he pulled my ass to the edge of the bed and pushed my legs up to reveal my entrance. He oiled himself and entered me, then leaned forward. As he pushed, he cupped his hand alternately around my nipples and pressed so that the milk flowed. My chest was wet and he dipped his hands in the white liquid and wiped it over my face and in my hair. He licked his lips, leaned in towards me, pushing my legs up further and kissed me again. With each push he milked me with one of his hands, spreading it all over my face and in my hair, and then kissing me. It was messy and erotic.

 

Taking my cue from Muffy I wiped my milk across his cheek and across his mouth and tongue. I drove him beyond his limits and he slammed into me with such force and passion that we both moved backwards across the bed. At one point Círdan stopped and pulled me back to the edge again.

 

“Move it,” I said breathing hard. “Get on with it.”

 

He looked at me, gave a low growl, and smacked my ass really hard, so that I yelled. “I am older than you, don’t be so cheeky,” he laughed and then pushed in.

 

“So old you had to take a rest?” I said carrying on the cheekiness.

 

He gripped the front of my raised thighs, hard, and then thrust for all he was worth. In and out, all the time, telling me how beautiful I looked covered in my own milk. Then he said that he was tempted not to let me wash afterwards, but tie me to the bed and make me sleep like it all night.

 

“You can do with me whatever you want my love,” I said. I knew he would not do it but he liked to think he could whenever he wanted. If I had begged him not to, I think he would have certainly tied me to the bed as that is the sort of elf he is. “Oh Muffy…Muffy…” I was so near.

 

“Yes… say my name…,” he panted and then with our faces contorted with our ecstasy, we had one of the most intense shared orgasms of our lives.

 

Círdan withdrew and moved up to lie on top of me. “You can take me next time, I am sick of doing all the work,” he joked and then kissed me.

 

“That’s because you are ol…” He covered my mouth with his hand.

 

“Say it and I really will tie you to the bed for the night,” He grinned and my eyes opened wide because I could not say anything. I tried making noises and he gave a smug smile. “Once again I have the upper hand and there is nothing you can do about it. I think I will have a relaxing night tonight and you will do as you are told. You can start by running us a bath.”

 

Well I have been married to Círdan for the past fifty years and I know exactly how to manage him. It is all part of the game. I always win when we spar, now that I have Oropher’s body, and we both know he could not force me against my will. However, it seems that when it comes to me Círdan is very easy to deceive.

 

I relaxed totally to make it look as though I gave in and he took his hand away from my mouth. He leaned forward and kissed my lips. I groaned slightly, so that he knew I was enjoying his closeness and I positively encouraged him to surround me with his arms. “You are so wonderful at taking care of my pleasure, Meleth.” I cupped his cheek and kissed him lightly. “You have been so thorough with me that all the heat has left my body.” My body went limp. “I have very little strength left; you have worn me out. I do not even think that I can collect Cireolas.”

 

“It was a good session wasn’t it?” I nodded in agreement, looking at him with my beautiful and plaintive, feel sorry for me, blue eyes. “I am sorry if I have worn you out that much; I did not mean to. Are you all right?” Círdan looked most concerned.

 

“I am so cold,” I said, looking up into his apprehensive face. It was so easy.

 

Círdan wrapped me in a blanket and ran a bath. While it was running, he put his robe on and rang the bell cord. The servant who attended was told to bring a glass of hot-spiced wine for me and to do it quickly. Then he came back and held me in his arms.

 

“I do not like to see you shiver, Meleth,” he said to me. “The bath will warm you through.”

 

Yes, well I was not shivering when you were looking the other way, idiot! Elves don’t suffer from the cold.

 

“I will be all right,” I said bravely, knowing that he would feel guiltier.

 

The spiced wine arrived within minutes. The bath was run, so we got in. Círdan washed my hair and my body, because he was under the impression that I was too tired to do it myself, and then he did his own. I did not have to lift a finger. When the bath was finished, he wrapped me in a towel and held me tight, asking if I felt warmed.

 

“Much better,” I replied.

 

“Look, Meleth, I did not mean any of what I said. I would not really tie you to the bed all night. As for making you do as you are told, when have I ever been able to do that?” He kissed my cheek. “I know that you became cold because I covered you with milk. I am sorry that I was so careless.” He looked deep into my eyes as though he meant it, which I am sure he did. “I am going to go and get Cireolas, when they get back from the market, and I will take care of him this evening at dinner and give him a bath at bedtime. You are going to do nothing but relax.”

 

Well look at that! I won. He ran around doing everything. I spent the time relaxing, not him. It was good for him to do the things I normally have to do. However, I wonder if he really is that easy to fool, after all, he is gullible in absolutely no other area of his life.

 

Círdan was as good as his word and I had a lovely evening with Nenuial and Nuinzillien. That night we lay in bed and Círdan thanked me for indulging his fantasies, earlier on. “I cannot believe I wore you out,” he said. “However, it matters not; you deserved a relaxing evening for being such a wonderful husband and letting me do something I have wanted to do for a very long time.” We could hear Cireolas in his cot babbling away to himself in his half sleep. The rain fell lightly outside and pattered softly against the windows. Ithil’s beams reflected off Círdan’s face, lighting up his eyes, which shone with love.

 

That is all that matters really. Isn’t it?


	17. Part 44 – Cireolas, Melpomaen mark II. Part 45 – The prophecy of the Valar. Part 46 – The Argument.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cireolas is confused. Ereolas reflects back to when he was Oropher. Cirdan and Ereolas cannot hold their tempers.

**Part 44 – Cireolas, Melpomaen Mark II**

 

 

The next morning all was quiet. We had breakfast in our rooms and gave Cireolas his ground rice pudding.

 

“Want cake, Nana,” he said and beamed at me.

 

“I am Ada,” I replied, not amused.

 

Círdan laughed and told me that if the shoe fits then to go with it. He thought he was terribly witty, but not after I told him that I would never milk for him again. Very quickly, he told Cireolas to call me Ada.

 

“No, you Ada.” He pointed at Círdan. “You, Nana.” He pointed his little index finger at me.

 

“We are both Adas. If you call me Nana again there will be no cake later on.” I simply will not be called Nana. It is bad enough that I have to breastfeed him and that my little tits can be seen, unless I bind them flat with tight strips of cloth across my chest. At least my belly is not showing yet, although little Gil-Galad kicks as though his life depends on it; he is in for such a stiff talking to when he is born!

 

“Now Cireolas,” Círdan said in his strict Ada voice. “You will do as you are told and not call Ada Ereolas by any name other than Ada. Do I make myself clear?”

 

Cireolas gave a big beaming smile and held his arms up to Círdan so he could be picked up. He knows how to wind him around his little finger. “Ada, kiss,” he said and gave a big smile and kissed Muffy’s lips, making him laugh and me too. Then he leaned forward and spoke in Muffy’s ear, “Poo poo.”

 

The tiny face changed, screwed up and went bright red. Straining noises issued from our ion’s mouth and Círdan rushed him out to the toilet. That nappy was off in one quick yank and Cireolas pooed into the pan. He was very upset about this and screamed the place down. It turns out that the little troll does not like the toilet because he cannot see what he is doing. Muffy showed him the poo floating at the bottom, but it was not good enough. In fact, Cireolas said it was not his poo and it belonged to someone else. He really is very silly sometimes.

 

We washed the crying dimwit and then I gave him a drink of milk. Círdan gave me the most lust filled look and I hoped dearly that my little ion would go to sleep and we could play; the events of last night still fresh in my mind. It was not to be. I have no idea why but the tiny terror remained sulky all morning, and when anyone tried to say hello to him he buried his head in my shoulder.

 

We walked to the throne room to hear a petition for a new glass craft centre, to be situated behind a small hill at the far end of the bay. After looking at the expected profits and the amount to be generated in rent and tax, we granted permission and left it to the scribes to draw up the legal stuff. 

 

“I would like to place a commission,” Círdan said to one of the glass crafting elves. “We require a glass potty for our ion. He wants to see what he is doing.”

 

“Ada is going to have a see through potty made for you,” I said to Cireolas, who buried his fluffy blond head into my shoulder and put his thumb in his mouth.

 

“It will be a gift, your Highness,” the elf said and bowed.

 

We left the room and Círdan laughed. “What is so funny?” I asked.

 

“Every elfling in Mithlond will have a glass potty now, just because we have a spoilt brat.” Círdan took our sulky ion from my arms. “I think Cireolas needs to go to sleep so he can wake up in a better mood.”

 

“NOT GO TO SLEEP,” our sweet elfling yelled at the top of his voice and whacked his hand off Círdan’s head, dislodging his circlet. Muffy took no notice. He was more restrained than I would have been.

 

Cireolas yelled in Círdan’s ear all the way back to our rooms. When we reached our bedroom, Círdan put him on the bed and gave him a severe telling off. Appropriately severe for a baby, that is.

 

“I will not have you acting like a brat outside these rooms,” Círdan said loudly as our small ion glared at him. “Do you hear me or your Ada Ereolas shouting like that in public?” He waited for an answer. “Well do you?”

 

“Ada,” Cireolas smiled and held his arms up to my sweet Muffy. “Love you, Ada.”

 

Círdan shook his head. “What are we to do with him?”

 

I picked the little orc up and put him in his cot. “If you go to sleep you will wake up in a happier mood. Look here is your Fëanor doll and I think he wants a cuddle.” I tucked the doll into my baby’s arms and covered him with the blanket.

 

“Stay with me,” he pleaded as I rocked the cot from side to side.

 

I sang him a lullaby, or rather I tried to. Cireolas told me to stop singing because my voice was ‘grating on his nerves’. “Do not be rude,” I told him and wondered where he heard that saying.

 

His baby eyes fluttered and closed, then opened, then closed, and continued to do so until he was fast asleep. I let the rocking subside, walked over to the screen, and put it around the cot.

 

“Círdan,” I said softly. I bared my chest as he looked up. “Mid-morning drink?”

 

 

**Part 45 – The prophecy of the Valar**

 

 

In the afternoon, we saw Galade walking with Galdor; she seemed much smitten. Queen Nenuial and Nuinzilien roped her in to sit with the slash writing ellith. My spies informed me that no mention was made of the Galdor spanking incident; Galade expressed quite early on that she thought he was one of the finest of all elves. It must have killed the Ladies Aglarien and Erviniae to keep silent, but they have been brought up properly, if nothing else, and both know how far they can go. 

 

Galade has won my heart, such a beautiful flower and so polite. No wonder Nenuial is proud of her, she is rightly so. A sweet, even-tempered elfling has grown into an elleth whose behaviour, comportment and observance of etiquette is beyond reproach. I am not surprised that Galdor is enchanted with her. It is about time our recalcitrant Chief Counsellor found out about the delights of the elleth variety, instead of shagging every human male that he can find.

 

Later in the day we watched them walk off towards the beach with a picnic. 

 

“I never thought that Galdor would fall for an elleth,” I said to Nenuial.

 

“I knew he would.” Nenuial smiled. “We are assured by Gandalf that he is her soul mate.”

 

“Ah!” I grinned. “Maybe she will keep him out of trouble.”

 

“Ereolas, you know that I have always adored you. Grant me one large favour and a small one?” I told Nenuial that she could ask for anything and I would immediately agree. “When we depart for home, I should like Galdor to be loaned to my court so their romance can continue. I would also ask that he does not accompany you to Mirkwood. I would like him to remain, so that he and my niece can become better acquainted.”

 

“Of course. Círdan will need to consider your request but I cannot see him disagreeing.”

 

“I insist that you take my Chief Counsellor as a replacement for Galdor, or as a second if you have someone else in mind to take Galdor’s position.” Nenuial seemed relieved. “Galade has never shown an interest in any elf before. None were good enough and she could be somewhat cruel to those who wished to court her.”

 

“We all have our dark sides, Dear Lady,” I ventured, not wanting to believe what I had just heard. “The Lady Galade seems so sweet and delicately pretty; how could one such as her be cruel?”

 

Nenuial laughed, “She is as tough as old boots. Do not let her sweetness deceive you. Galdor will certainly have his hands full.”

 

We went off to see Círdan, who was holding Cireolas and teaching him the old nursery rhyme, ‘The old man with a stick up his uh-oh!’. He agreed immediately to Nenuial’s proposal and congratulated her on solving the problem of what to do with Galdor. 

 

“If he is out of order I shall thrash him with my stick,” Nenuial told us.

 

“I wonder what is worse, being thrashed with your stick or being spanked by my hand.” Círdan tittered. He told Nenuial about the incident at the ball, while I took Cireolas and plugged him on for a milk drink. According to Círdan, Cireolas had been good all afternoon without a repeat of his tantrums of the morning.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

When Thranduil was a baby he never had tantrums. He was even-tempered and prone more to laughter than temper. He thought that I was the greatest ada in Middle-earth, which of course I was.

 

I remember helping him fire his arrows, when he was barely more than a baby. I made a tiny, well balanced bow for him. Thranduil still keeps it on display because it was made by his Ada Oropher. He will be so surprised when he sees me in my new body. Perhaps he will be able to discard the last vestiges of grief when he does. I hope so; it is painful to see him looking at my old belongings and see the sorrow in his face. He knows that I am his Ada reborn, but it seems to me that he thinks I am not him as well.

 

When Cireolas is able to stand and coordinate his movements better I shall go out into the forest and ask the trees to gift me their finest branch. The wood will be carved as the first bow for the smallest Lord of Mithlond. When Thranduil was the same age I asked the same of the trees in The Greenwood. It is a tradition of the forests that they give their finest branch to the king for his first born, who may one day be king after him. In this life Cireolas is my first born. I knew from the words given by the Valar, at Thranduil’s presentation to them, that one day I would die and he would take over. It was a burden I carried for the rest of my days. In the end, I had to make sure that I did nothing but enjoy life for the moment. To do otherwise would have sent me insane.

 

When I told Thranduil of the prophecy he suggested that I did not go into battle any more but stay at home where he considered it safer.

 

“Whatever happens I will die,” I told him. “It is better that I die quickly in battle than hide from the inevitable at home.” I made sure that Thranduil was trained from birth to be king. He had not realised, until now, the reason for it.

 

“I do not see that it makes a difference,” he said in a choked voice. “However you go, you will still be away from me.”

 

“The Valar intend on it happening and they will do as they will. Who can fight them?” I did not want to leave my ion either. There was no one in the world I loved more. When I was an elfling, in the life I have now, I remember riding Thranduil’s horse with him many times. He thought that it was because I loved my grandada, but it was not, it was because I wanted to be close again to my ion. He looked exactly as I remembered him before I left him alone to be king.

 

“I do not want you to die,” Thranduil said in a quiet, strained voice. “Why did you have to tell me?”

 

“Because I want you to be prepared. You will have a kingdom to run. You will have to rule the elves of the forest and maintain peace throughout. This is what we are fighting for and it can so easily be lost. By making you take up the reins of duty before I die, you will be able to carry on when I am dead, and that is why you had to know of the prophecy. I would not leave you paralysed with grief and unable to act because I sought to spare your feelings when something much greater is at stake.” All the time I said this to him my arm held his shoulders and his head lay against my chest. “We live in interesting times and the climactic event that will settle all of our futures is near, but yet to come. I tell you now that it will be bigger than any of us and will impact on Middle-earth forever.”

 

“I wish you were me and I was you, so that you did not have to die,” Thranduil said, hugging me tighter. “I cannot think of life without you.”

 

“It will be your turn to take up the challenge for the threat will not stop. Sauron will be waylaid for a while, if we win, but evil coexists with good and my time for fighting him will be gone. Many good and noble elves will go to their deaths and a new order will come into being. You, my ion, will be part of that order and I believe this is your destiny.” I was sick of hearing my own voice, yet Thranduil seemed to gain comfort from it. “I know it will hurt, but I am trying to make it as easy as I can for you.”

 

“I know,” he could barely speak. “But it will not be easy, how could it be?”

 

“It will be easier than if it came as a complete surprise. I have had to live with this knowledge since you were a few days old. Now is the time for you to know.” I stroked his long blond hair and smiled because it was the exact same shade as mine. 

 

“Why did you have to tell me now? Why not some time in the future?” he asked quietly.

 

“We are leading up to the final battle and I feel the end drawing near. I do not know if I will be in the numbers who come back alive.” I felt my eyes welling up. I had lived with the knowledge for the majority of my life, but now the event was coming into view and I was terrified. I hoped that my death would be swift and I would meet it bravely.

 

“You have been in battle many times and have always come home.” Thranduil was clutching at straws and it broke my heart that he was so distressed.

 

“I do not think that I will be coming home next time. It seems as though this age is coming to an end and you must accept this. There is nothing either of us can do.” I tried to comfort him but I was now dealing with my own pain.

 

“You might survive,” Thranduil said. “Nothing is set in stone. The Valar might change their mind.”

 

How could I comfort my ion when he continued to grasp at hope with both hands? “They might,” I said and left it at that. The lump in my throat stopped any further speech and I held my ion as he sat quietly with his head against my chest. I was glad he could not see my face, because my grief matched his own.

 

I was right. It was nearly a year to the day when I rode to my death in the final battle. The note from Erestor, delaying the starting time of the battle, was never given to me and we rode out too early. I stood with Námo, watching my ion cradle my dead body in his arms, my head was missing because Sauron had torn it off and kicked it across the battlefield. My hand passed through Thranduil’s shoulder when I tried to comfort him, and that was probably the most upsetting moment of all. I could not help him anymore; he was truly alone. Walking away with the Vala of the Slain, I looked back and knew that I was right to tell my ion about the prophecy. It was heartening to see that he was uninjured. I could walk away, knowing that my death was not in vain. Sauron would be defeated and peace would bring in the new age.

 

It was worth it.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Cireolas finished his milk. I noticed Círdan and Nenuial looking at me. “I think you must have dozed off,” Círdan said. “Twice I asked if you want a cup of tea and you did not answer.”

 

“Why don’t you go and rest for a while and I will look after Cireolas and teach him how to hit things with my stick,” Nenuial offered. “When I was in my first three months of pregnancy, I was so tired that I could barely stay awake.”

 

I smiled and offered no argument as Círdan took my arm. “I will make sure he sleeps,” Círdan said before leading me away.

 

We got to our bedroom and I sat on the bed. “I was lost in thought, not asleep.”

 

Círdan sat beside me. “What were you thinking about?”

 

“Thranduil. Cireolas is identical in appearance to him when he was an elfling. My thoughts drifted to when he was younger and I was still Oropher.”

 

“You will see him again soon.” Muffy held my hand to his lips and kissed my fingers. “This time he will see Oropher, not Ereolas. I wonder how it will affect him.” 

 

“I do not know. I really do not know.”

 

“Lay with me,” Círdan said softly, and so I did. His arms encircled me and he stroked my cheek while talking about how Thranduil had prayed that one-day I would be reborn, so that he would have his ada with him again. “I told Thranduil that his family was now Queen Merilnis and he should think of having elflings of his own. He laughed and said that Middle-earth was no place for an elfling. It appears that one and a half thousand years later he changed his mind.”

 

I was becoming sleepy and so Círdan pulled the covers over us. He kissed my lips and wished me a good sleep. The warmth of my beloved’s body made it easy to drift and close my eyes. I was with Muffy before I died and now I am with him again. My death was merely a blip. We are one, as we were always meant to be.

 

This time it will last forever.

 

 

**Part 46 – The Argument**

 

It has been a terrible week, but we are now on our way to Mirkwood, so things should get better. Elrohir and Elladan are accompanying us, apparently I need caring for. Círdan is watching me like a hawk to make sure that I do not become distressed and hurt anyone. The warrior guard are not talking to me, except when they have to.

 

My morning sickness came back with a vengeance when Elladan could find no more of the rare herb that stops it from occurring. It grows on the sand dunes overlooking the bay. There was quite a bit of it; however, a freak storm washed over the dunes and flooded the dock area, uprooting the herb and washing it away. This was not the foremost worry of anyone, including me. The sea smashed apart two ships that were in the dock. Most of the crews were on shore leave, so they survived. The elves who stayed on the ships were not so lucky. A couple of beachfront houses were washed away; happily the elves who owned them were sheltering in town. It could have been worse. Círdan discourages the building of properties near the beach for this reason. 

 

I could not have the herbal tea and thought nothing of it; helping the bereaved and the homeless was more important. We set to and found a place for the families to stay. Then we employed builders to construct houses for the elves whose dwellings were swept away. They would be built nearer the town in a safer position. Afterwards, we visited the families of the sailors who lost their lives. It was heart wrenching but right, that the rulers of the realm visit the families of the elves who were working for them. It was an awful and distressing day. When it was all over I went back to the castle and climbed into bed, feeling nauseas and ill. 

 

“Come on, sleepyhead, it is time for dinner,” Círdan said and kissed my forehead. 

 

“I feel sick and Elladan says there are no herbs left on the dunes. I haven’t had any today.” I fought the urge to run into the bathroom and hang my head over the toilet.

 

“Well why did he not have a back up supply?” Círdan demanded. “Today of all days we must make an appearance.”

 

“It only works when fresh,” I replied before deciding that I could fight the urge no longer.

 

Muffy stroked my back as I retched. “Try not to give into it,” he said and pulled me up. He took a wet cloth and wiped my face. “There now. Let’s go to dinner.”

 

“I have tried not to give into it all day.” He led me out of the room, while I wondered if he was actually listening.

 

We went to dinner and I ate nothing, much to Círdan’s consternation. He did not seem to understand that I could not face eating. Several times I tried to tell him, but it was no good. Nenuial told him that I looked ill but he said that I should not give into sickness and try to carry on as before. 

 

“Perhaps you could tell me when the great and wise Círdan became a heartless fool,” Nenuial said and looked at Nuinzilien for agreement, which was readily forthcoming.

 

“Dear Lady,” Círdan said in his most acid of polite tones. “He has only missed today’s drink. Surely the sickness would not come back this fast? It leads me to wonder how much of this is real or not.”

 

I stared at my husband. “How dare you!” 

 

He took a spoonful of his grapefruit and carrot juice sorbet and told me not to make a scene. For the rest of the meal I ignored him. When I fed Cireolas, I turned my back to him so that he could not see either of us. Childish, I know, but I was livid.

 

Everyone at the table looked at me. Galade and Galdor stopped feeding each other bits of their desserts and stared. I raised my eyebrows in polite enquiry and they hurriedly looked away. Nenuial and Nuinzilien engaged me in conversation about the measures available in Mithlond to help the victims and families of the flood. I replied that we had asked the families what they wanted to do and we would supply the finances to ensure a swift resolution; after all, everyone pays tax and when disaster hits they should be helped. She thought this was a good idea and I said that it was something that Círdan had put in place many years before.

 

“Presumably, before he became an idiot,” Nuinzilien laughed and gave Círdan a look that dared him to say anything. Nenuial joined her in glaring at him and my heart sunk. They meant well, but the situation when we returned to our rooms would now be much worse, and I was not in the mood for it.

 

I did not have to wait long. As soon as we arrived in our rooms Círdan started an argument. 

 

“Do not shout in front of Cireolas,” I said quietly to him.

 

“One day, our little boy is going to have to get use to the idea that his parents argue,” Círdan shouted and took Cireolas off me. He placed him in his cot and told him to go to sleep. My thoughtless husband continued his tirade and asked me why members of my family thought they could insult him. Then he demanded to know why I was succumbing so readily to morning sickness and listed a whole host of other things that he found lacking in me. To top it all off, he reminded me that there were elves who needed funerals, plus homeless and grieving families. He then said that I could not stand the attention shifting away from me and, more or less, that I was putting the sickness on. He was so understanding when I was first pregnant and being sick; now he is an unfeeling bastard.

 

I argued back, aware that a small elfling was watching with wide eyes and taking it all in. Trying not to raise my voice, I put forward my point of view. Muffy interrupted me several times. He became extremely overbearing and leaned over me, jabbing his finger in my chest, which because of my pregnancy is quite sore. Cireolas laughed and shouted to Círdan to poke me again.

 

I saw red. I punched Círdan so hard that he flew backwards across the room. The look of shock on his face was priceless. Cireolas laughed and so I told him to shut up, or else I would throw him out of the window. Of course I did not mean it. Círdan stood up, grabbed our ion, and stormed out of the room. I went into the bathroom and threw up. It was wrong of me to act like that, but when one’s ion is encouraging the argument things have to stop. I felt too ill to act rationally. When they left the room I did not care, all I could think of was being sick.

 

I did not hear the guards enter the room, as I was more interested in heaving my guts up into the toilet pan. When I realised what was going on I tried to defend myself. The guards piled on top of me and held me down, holding a cloth to my face, which was drenched in the sleeping fluid used to subdue the violent and to put those to sleep who need treatment. Obviously, I belonged in the first category. The last face I saw was Círdan’s, who told me that it was for my own good. He looked curiously disjointed and I wondered what it could mean.


	18. Part 47 – Restraints. Part 48 – Help at last. Part 49 – Ereolas or Oropher: Who Shall I be Today?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ereolas wakes up tied to the bed because he is now considered dangerous. Nenuial is very annoyed, while Elrohir goes out looking for morning sickness herbs. In the end, Ereolas is released and they make their way to Mirkwood. Thranduil is overjoyed to see his ada in his original form as Oropher.

**Part 47 – Restraints**

 

I woke in the old healing wing. My wrists and ankles were tied to the sides of the bed. I had enough slack to move, but not enough to get out of the bed. A thick cotton cord passed through a leather belt fixed around my waist and extended under the mattress.

 

Elrohir sat beside me. “Why am I tied to the bed?” I asked him

 

“Because you attacked Círdan and threatened to throw your baby out of the window,” Elrohir replied. “We thought it best to restrain you until you came back to sanity.”

 

“Círdan shouted at me in front of Cireolas and poked me hard in the chest. Then I had to listen to my ion telling my husband to do it again. That is why I hit Círdan. I would never actually harm my ion and I wonder why he thought that I would.” I felt myself fighting off some very strong elleth type emotions. “I tried to stop him shouting in front of Cireolas, thinking that it would scare him as he is only a baby, but he ignored me and carried on.”

 

“Ereolas,” Elrohir said holding my hand. “You attacked the ruling Lord of the realm and his ion. The guards’ first loyalty is to Círdan and then to Cireolas; you come third.”

 

“But I am one of the ruling Lords,” I argued. “I am co-ruler of this realm.”

 

“You are not as important a ruling Lord as Círdan is,” he said gently. “However, I think you will find that your husband is a bit more amenable, even though he truly believes that you could have harmed Cireolas.”

 

“Well he is stupid if he thinks that. How is he likely to be more amenable?” I tested the stays on my limbs and they held fast.

 

“You have vomited several times in your sleep, that is why,” Elrohir said, unimpressed at my attempts to explore the limits of my bonds. In fact, he looked rather worried. He stood up and positioned a clean bowl on my lap. “Make sure you give no grounds for anyone to suspect that you are anything but normal.”

 

“But I am normal,” I watched Elrohir as he poured some clear liquid into a small glass. I suspected it was for me.

 

“No one will see it that way.” Elrohir held the glass to my lips and I drank because ultimately I had no choice. “You are perceived as dangerously unpredictable because of your pregnancy, extremely violent, and, also, abusive to your ion. Before you disagree, let me tell you that I am treating four of the guards you fought when they tried to subdue you. They are seriously hurt and not one of the others came off with no injury at all. I don’t think you know your own strength.” I noticed that he stood as far away from me as he decently could.

 

So I am restrained because they are frightened of what I am likely to do. The threat to Cireolas was taken seriously because of what I did to Círdan and the guards. It is not a punishment, as I originally suspected, but a measure to keep a bunch of scared elves feeling safe. My eyelids felt heavy; the medicine was to sedate me. The ties were not reassuring enough, they had to drug me as well. I could hear my husband’s voice and feel my ion suckling from me. Fleeting images made no sense as I tried to keep my eyes open. A cold cloth was wiped across my face and I heard disjointed words from my family. I was unable to respond. The last thing I remember is being sick and hands turning my head and my shoulders to the side, presumably so that I did not choke.

 

When I awoke it was morning. My bonds were still insitu and the first thing I did was vomit. Círdan was too late with the bowl and clear liquid ran down my chest. He wiped it away with a wet cloth and apologised for not reacting fast enough. My husband’s face was a mess. I can see why he panicked and took Cireolas from me. Maybe Elrohir was right. It seems that I really do not know my own strength. I only punched him once but he looks as though he were smashed in the face by a battering ram. I wonder why I hurt him so badly; I did not mean to. Círdan was being a pig, but he did not deserve this. A small voice inside my head told me to not to make excuses for him. One thing I do know is that if I had not hit him he would have calmed down and apologised.

 

“I am sorry I hurt you,” I said. Círdan looked at me and apologised for doubting me and being cruel. My elleth type feelings surfaced and I could not stop them. A tear threatened to fall over my lower lid and, lest my husband think that I was being the attention seeker he had previously called me, I looked away.

 

“Come, Ereolas,” he said, stroking my head. “This is hard for all of us. This is not you at all. It is because you are pregnant.”

 

“I would never harm Cireolas,” I said hotly, the elleth type emotions threatening to take over. “He is my ion. Why did you think that I would? And why am I tied to the bed?”

 

“I am your husband and you have hurt me, so I could not take the chance. Nenuial is looking after Cireolas and, if it is any comfort to you, she agrees that you would not harm him.” Círdan held the bowl under my chin, although, in truth, there was nothing left in my stomach, but that did not stop it from trying to turn inside out. “The Valar are making this child very difficult for you to carry.” I noticed that he did not tell me why I was being restrained.

 

“When am I going to be untied?” I asked. From the look on Círdan’s face I could see that it would not be any time soon.

 

“When Elladan and Elrohir say you are not dangerous you will be released. As the law stands, you have attacked the ruler; it makes no difference that you are also a ruler. In addition, you threatened the Lord’s ion, and it does not matter if he is your ion also, you acted illegally.” Círdan cradled my head against his chest as he sat beside me. “Because you are my husband all that can realistically be done to you is to cure your morning sickness and show everyone that you are the victim of circumstances beyond your control. If I forgive you then everyone else has to.”

 

“Are we not above the law? Since when has the law of any land applied to the rulers of it?” I was very surprised and highly annoyed. When I was The King of the Greenwood, I was not able to charge Alatáriël with trying to kill me because she was the Queen. I could have run her through with my sword, in front of the whole court, without any comeback because I was King. She could have done the same to me with impunity.

 

“The law was put in place because it was feared that Erestor would try one day to kill me. Maybe he would have done if I had not sent him to Haldir’s school. I know he is your ada but he had all the signs of becoming a murderous little bastard, who would have killed me in my sleep without thinking twice.” Círdan laughed. There was nothing to laugh about.

 

“If you had treated him better and cuddled him more he would not have tried for any attention, negative or positive. He would have been perfectly normal.” I was sick of Círdan making old references to my Ada and wanted him to stop. 

 

I knew what Erestor was like as an elfling. When I found his diaries, from when he was an elfling, I was struck by how frightened, lonely and unloved he felt. We all let him down. I heard the first thing Haldir did to Erestor when he arrived at his school for recalcitrant elflings was to take him in his arms, cuddle him and tell him that he was safe. None of us had the wit, intelligence or the compassion to do that. I am the bigger sinner because I already had an ion; I should have known what to do. In truth, I was the only elf who paid him positive attention when he first went to live with Círdan as a small elfling. His affection quickly turned to hate because I was Círdan’s lover. I should have persevered and showed him positive attention regardless. He despised Círdan, with good reason, and hated all who loved him. I should have petitioned Gil-Galad to let Erestor live in my court, but it did not occur to me. My inaction was unforgiveable and I became part of his problem. 

 

When I was reborn, Erestor became my ada. I feared what this might mean, but he is truly a great elf in every way. Not once did he reproach me for my behaviour in my former life. He told me that we needed to start afresh and not hold onto past grievances when I decided to disregard the wishes of the Valar and demanded my old kingdom back. It seems silly now that I did that; however, I was only a baby at the time.

 

“I am sorry,” Círdan said. “I am not trying to upset you. Let’s talk about happy things.”

 

“There is nothing in my life that is happy at the moment,” I said and felt my elleth type feelings trying to surface again. I turned away, lest I should fail to suppress my tears. I was brought up in a society that allowed no expression of that which was perceived as weak, and so I found it hard to express the emotions that others took for granted. We were discouraged from crying when elflings, and there were severe penalties for those who did as adults. My parents lived in a military, war threatened society; they were fighting for their very existence. We were taught that crying out, when in any type of pain, was never acceptable because expressions of pain could give away one’s position and threaten the safety of everyone. Old habits die hard. I was taught not to cry as well, even though when I was born times were much safer.

 

Círdan and I are both better at expressing our feelings than we used to be. The reason for our legendary arguments before my death, while Oropher, was because we were both emotionally stunted and found it impossible to be honest with one another. 

 

It seems that we are still suffering from our inability. 

 

 

 

**Part 48 – Help at last.**

 

I am doing a lot of reflecting because I am trying to make sense of my part in all the horridness. Am I as emotionally reticent as I used to be? I grew up in this life with very demonstrative and loving parents, although Erestor would still rather be run through with a million knives than let anyone see him cry. He was told not to cry when he bid his dying Nana farewell at the dockside, and so he did not. He was little more than a toddler. I fear that more harm than good was done during our upbringings, but it is so easy to judge those of long ago, especially when we do not face the same problems.

 

Nenuial arrived with Cireolas, who was very happy to see me. Círdan put him to my breast. I was unable to. “Should Ereolas be feeding if he is unable to eat or drink?” she asked imperiously. “I think it will make him weaker.”

 

“I will ask one of the twins,” Círdan replied.

 

“You might want to ask when they are going to remove those ridiculous ties while you are at it.” Nenuial was not happy and I was glad of that, she would not let this be as one sided as it first appeared.

 

“I have already asked and they are going to assess him tomorrow,” Círdan replied. “I do not want to see Ereolas bound to the bed either.”

 

“I need the bowl,” I said urgently. As I retched I felt Nenuial removing Cireolas from me. 

 

“He cannot go on like this,” she said and marched out of the room with our ion. I heard her outside cross examining Elladan. Because she is a Queen and he is not, except in the bedroom, from what I heard, he was very respectful and answered her properly without trying to fob her off. 

 

Elladan came in to see us when Nenuial and Cireolas had departed. “Ereolas, I am doing all I can to find alternate herbs to stop you from being sick. Elrohir has gone out this morning to search and I have consulted the midwives of the town. They say you have to bear it and were no good at all. If we cannot find a solution we will get in touch with Ada and see what he suggests.” He looked in my eyes and asked me if I felt that I could sleep. I told him that I had only been awake a short while.

 

“I will send the healing assistants in to give you a wash,” he said and went from the room.

 

I continued to be nauseous for the rest of the day, waking with each fresh round of vomiting. My insides ached, but there was nothing I could do. Círdan stayed by my side during the night and made sure a bowl was handy for when I retched. If he had been any sort of ruler he would have untied me. I would not forget his cowardice.

 

The next day, Elrohir returned with an herb that would help, but not completely eliminate, the sickness. Anything is better than nothing, and so I drank the extract he made for me. I still felt sick, but I was not vomiting anymore. 

 

I was able to lie for a while with Cireolas in my arms. Elladan loosened the ties, even though Elrohir, the halfwit, protested that my ion might not be safe. Cireolas fell asleep on me after feeding and I followed shortly after. Círdan took him from me and put him in his cot. He moved it from the bedroom so Cireolas could be near me.

 

After a couple of days of not losing my temper the bindings were released. It seems that the warriors were now recovering well and they were back with their families. Apparently, Elrohir saw me defend myself against the warriors and, according to Elladan, he is ultra-cautious because he was horrified and fears I will do it again. Elladan thinks his brother is a halfwit too.

 

The next day, in the evening, we moved back to our rooms and I slept in our bed. We went to breakfast the next morning. When I walked in, holding onto Círdan’s arm, the room went silent. I took no notice of them. I am co-ruler of Mithlond and a Prince of Mirkwood, so they can go stick their collective heads up a pig’s arse. I am also the ada of the Crown Prince. Too bad if our subjects disapproved of me; there was nothing they could do and none of them dared to say a word.

 

We set off a couple of days later to Mirkwood on our official visit. The warrior guards were barely speaking; Elrohir and Elladan kept asking me if I felt all right, and Círdan carried Cireolas, talking to me about inconsequential things when there was something to say. We were not a happy party and I was becoming angrier by the minute. The warrior guards were angry because some of their number were injured when they tried to restrain me and are still not back at work. It is their job, and they do not seem to be that good at it. I have never heard of one elf being able to injure fifteen warriors; therefore, I can only conclude that they are not effective fighters. They thought I would be easy, as I have a baby inside me. Valar forbid that they should meet any orcs.

 

I cannot say this to Círdan though, because when I try he becomes worried and thinks that I am going to explode again. The twins think this too; every night I am given something to help me sleep. It is no good refusing because everyone becomes extremely anxious and Círdan hugs Cireolas that little bit tighter. I cannot wait to get to Mirkwood and for this madness to stop. Thranduil will put them right. I am going to let my adas deal with Círdan. Elrohir, the twit twin, is already getting it of Elladan, the more sensible one.

 

The journey took seventeen days. 

 

I could see the realm is up ahead. A welcome party rode out to meet us. Círdan and I looked magnificent in all our regalia, as is fitting for the meeting of two royal parties. 

 

We met in the centre of the Glade of Jewelled Beams. It is a large expanse and is so called because shafts of light shine through the branches overhead and crisscross just below the canopy, giving the impression of being under a vaulted roof made of light.

 

Círdan and I rode forward, with Cireolas, to meet Merilnis and Thranduil. I looked forward to seeing him again. Thranduil stood in the centre of the glade, his face a mask of confusion. I suspected he did not know my body had changed into that of Oropher’s. Merilnis looked at him and smiled.

 

I reached his side and dismounted. “Thranduil.” I threw my arms around him.

 

“Ada?” He looked stunned and hopeful. “Is it really you?”

 

 

**Part 49 – Ereolas or Oropher: Who Shall I be Today?**

 

I have explained to Thranduil that I am Ereolas first and Oropher second. I told him that if he introduces me as Oropher, then he is giving the impression that I am king again, which the Valar have expressly forbidden. I also said that to all intents and purposes I have the face, body and strength of Oropher but retain the name of Ereolas. I like to think that my personality is the same as it ever was. Thranduil said that I look like his ada and he can think of me as him and as his grand ion too, simply because there are parts of me that are strongly both. He was obviously trying to work it out in a way that he felt comfortable with and our reunion went much better than I thought it would.

 

Ada Legolas, without my knowledge, had written to Thranduil to tell him about my suicide and re-embodiment, and that I was pregnant with Gil-Galad. Thranduil thought it highly amusing that I was pregnant again. Anyway, before seeing me, he decided that I would be Ereolas still because he had not forgotten how I demanded that he call me, ‘Ada’ when I was born. When we met in the forest, all of that flew away on the wind. I looked exactly like his Ada, so strongly in fact that it pulled at his heart and his longing for me to be so, wiping away any previous thought of me remaining Ereolas. I had to be quite firm with him, that I was to remain Ereolas, and not Oropher. Furthermore, Ada Legolas was due to arrive soon and I would not have him hurt just because my ion wants his ada back. I have told Thranduil that I can be both but, ultimately, I will be myself.

 

Merilnis, my grandnana and adopted iell, from after her marriage to Thranduil, said that she did not mind who I wanted to be, it was good to see me again. I told her that I remembered her peeing on my leg when she was a baby and she laughed. “So like Oropher, aren’t you Ereolas? Remember that I am still your grandnana and I can spank your bottom.” She laughed and playfully tapped my backside. All ellith feel the need to touch my bottom.

 

I gave her a saucy grin. “Did you do that as my iell-in-law or my grandnana?” I asked. She smacked my bum with the flat of her hand and grinned cheekily. 

 

Thranduil roared with laughter before requesting that we spar the next afternoon. We often sparred when he was younger. I am proud to say that I taught him his warrior skills, making him the formidable and skilful fighter he is today. He was always very careful when sparring with me as Ereolas, just in case he hurt me; now we can have a more equal match. I feel that this will be an assessment of my capability for him, and an indication as to how he will think of me afterwards.

 

The noon of the day after, we sparred. In the distance, over the other side of the compound, the Captain of the Mirkwood Guard put Círdan’s weakling warriors through their paces. I tittered as I heard him calling them weedier than little kittens. After the session, in which I won most of the matches, Thranduil said that he would like to see me spar with Glorfindel. I am not confident that I could beat my brother-in-law, as he is supremely strong; however, I said I might try it. After the sparring session we went to the baths and soaked while telling each other rude jokes, which I will not repeat here just in case any of the delicate ladies that I am acquainted with should read this. Who knows; they may feel the need to spank my bottom too!

 

To round off a pleasant afternoon, we went to the drinking hall and sat in front of the fire, sipping hot wine. I was tired, and so I told Thranduil that I might nod off, giving Gil-Galad’s parasitic residence of my body as the reason. I fell asleep, as I knew I would. When I awoke, Thranduil was snuggled into my side and had his arms around me. I tried to wake him but he hugged me closer and called me ada. What am I to do with my silly ion? 

 

He was quite embarrassed when he woke up and I told him what he had said. He looked around and asked if I thought anyone had heard him. The room was crowded, but no one had paid us any particular attention. High backed furniture has a lot going for it. I once sat Alatáriël on my lap while sitting on a high backed chair, which was turned away from the crowd and facing a dark corner. It was fun to hear her panicked protestations as I lifted the back of her skirts and unloosed my leggings. 

 

Happily, it was not a chair that had squeaky springs.

 

.


	19. Part 50 – Tea time with Cireolas. Part 51 – Baby Talk. Part 52 – Morning Time.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Círdan’s face hurts and Ereolas takes Cireolas to tea. A surreal conversation. Círdan visits the healer about his face and the relatives arrive.

**Part 50 – Tea time with Cireolas**

 

 

While Thranduil and I were enjoying each other’s company, Círdan was looking after Cireolas. Our little boy was not happy and spent most of the day crying. I arrived back at our rooms and told Círdan that I had a wonderful day without him. Because I am the better elf, I bent down to kiss him hello, lightly holding his damaged cheek. He winced.

 

“I barely touched you,” I said angrily; thinking him a drama queen.

 

“Yes, I know. It is sore to the touch, that is all,” Círdan said evenly and put a marker in his book. “It has been like that for a while now. The twins said it would clear up on its own.”

 

“Well has it?” I asked impatiently, knowing it hadn’t.

 

“No, it is getting worse,” Círdan replied. He yawned, trying not to open his mouth too far. “Have you been sick today, Meleth?”

 

“I have felt sick. I drank some hot spiced wine and it went for a short while.” I looked at Cireolas and asked how long he had been asleep.

 

“About an hour,” Círdan replied. “He was overtired, that is all.”

 

“I will be back.” I left the room. Ten minutes later, I was back with Saelir, the head healer, in tow.

 

Saelir already knew about the argument; I had informed him on the way back to my rooms. He told my reluctant husband that he should let his cheek be examined. “I feel so embarrassed,” Círdan replied. “He only hit me once.”

 

“Well, King Oropher’s fighting ability was legendary,” Saelir said in an almost non-committal voice as he traced the contours of Círdan’s face with his fingers. “He leapt twenty-six feet into the air to kill a dragon. I saw him do it. I also remember him standing on top of a high rock and punching a troll on the jaw.” He continued to feel Círdan’s damaged cheek and asked him if it was affected by hot and cold food and whether it was painful when eating. “Come and see me tomorrow morning and we will get this sorted out.” He took a bottle out of his bag and poured some of the contents into a small glass. “Drink this tonight and it will help you sleep.” 

 

On his way to the door, Saelir chuckled and shook his head. “Prince Ereolas, your husband is not a tree trunk, he is flesh and blood.” He thought it a supremely witty joke and, just to annoy my husband, I laughed along with him. Afterwards, he called to Círdan. “I am surprised your head is still on your shoulders. A reborn elf will normally be the same as they were when first alive and King Oropher was one elf that no one in their right mind would cross.” Then he laughed again.

 

Círdan muttered his thanks and the healer left, still laughing to himself. Muffy looked at me in disbelief. “I am glad he found my predicament so funny.” He did not look glad. “You punched a troll on the jaw and lived? How have I never heard about it?”

 

I nodded happily, “It was to distract him while setting the trebuchets up with large rocks to smash him to pieces. It was not one of my best moments, so I never told you about it.”

 

“So what happened?” Círdan was too distracted by the troll story to worry about himself.

 

“The troll rubbed its jaw, looked at me in a slow expression of surprise, and then it aimed a punch back. It was so sluggish that by that time it reacted I had jumped off the rock. When the troll swung around to punch me, it lost its footing and fell over, making it much easier to kill.” I smiled at the memory and thanked the Valar that trolls are much rarer now.

 

“I can imagine you standing over it and hacking its head off,” Círdan said, his face showing slight amusement. “Then the assembled crowd would all have all given thanks to the Valar for brave King Oropher, the troll slayer.” He smiled, and then told me how proud of me he was when elves related stories to him about my bravery from when I was King Oropher.

 

“It was nothing like that,” I laughed, my mood lifted. “I went to jump off the rock and the top layer crumbled underneath my feet, probably because the troll had thumped it just before I punched him. Anyway, I fell all the way down. I thought I would be all right, but my pelvis smashed off a couple of smaller jutting rocks, which I did not know were there. I also broke my hip, some vertebrae and a load of ribs. I lay like a weak kitten, in agony and unable to move my legs at all. I had no feeling in them whatsoever; so at least the broken hip and pelvis did not hurt. However, the pain in my ribs and spine was so bad that I could hardly breathe. Then I felt a warm wetness creeping up my back, so I made out that I was unconscious because I was embarrassed.”

 

Círdan laughed and then his face creased in pain. He quickly held his hand to his cheek. I put my arms around him. Even though we argue and hurt one another, we are still in love and he is my soul mate. Even in my anger I do not like to see him in pain. However, this negates none of his past actions and he will still have to deal with Erestor, who will make him examine his own behaviour. We already had our screaming argument for the month; it was sheer indulgence for him to think that we could have a second one. Being tied up and drugged was not acceptable either, there was no sex involved and so it should not have happened.

 

“I will be all right,” Círdan said and put his arms round my waist. “Tell me about your day.”

 

We lay down on the sofa and I told him about Thranduil and the sparring. I laughed when I told Círdan about the weakling warriors and he said they were in dire need of extra training. We intend asking Mel and Glorfindel to sort them out. After a while, we stopped chattering and held each other in silence. It felt good to be close again. When I looked down at Círdan’s face his eyes were closed in sleep. I disentangled myself and covered him with a quilt. Teatime was near and now that I could eat, even though I felt nauseated, I had every intention of doing so. 

 

“Cireolas,” I said softly, shaking my little baby’s shoulder. “Time for tea. Come on, little one, wake up.”

 

He stirred and said, “Ba Ba.” I let him wake in his own time as I wrote a note for Círdan saying that I let him sleep and went to tea without him. Dinner would be in a few hours, so he would not starve and I was not sure that he could eat without being in pain. In fact, I could not remember him properly eating for a while now. Oh well! We would find out what is wrong with him tomorrow.

 

We left the rooms and I asked Cireolas what he wanted to eat when we arrived in the tea hall. “Want cake,” he said happily. No surprises there. Then he said, “Want roast beef and horses in bread.”

 

“You mean horseradish?” I asked, smiling.

 

“Yes,” He had an earnest look on his little face. “Want jelly and ice cream and jam pudding. Want it now.”

 

We sat down next to Thranduil and Merilnis who both told Cireolas how lovely he is, a fact of which he is well aware. I sat him on Thranduil’s lap and ordered for Cireolas and myself. He is a bit of a thicky; he cannot read a menu at all! That makes him quite behind in our family.

 

Cireolas looked hopefully at the waiter. “Me food first, please?” He smiled sweetly and looked like an innocent. I knew what was coming.

 

“You have to wait your turn, young Cireolas,” Thranduil said. Wrong thing to say.

 

Cireolas exploded with temper and slammed his tiny fists on the table, “I AM PRINCE. WANT FOOD NOW!”

 

Thranduil nearly died with laughter, as I sighed. “I am a king. I get mine first,” he said. Then he turned to his wife. “He is just like when Legolas was a baby.” They tittered while recollecting how my ada would stamp his feet, scream and hit things if he could not get his own way. They mostly dealt with it by ignoring him until he behaved.

 

To Cireolas’s chagrin, we laughed and chattered, totally ignoring his tantrums and cute pleadings. Mysteriously, he somehow ended up back on my lap. When the food came, I offered my little orcling a minced roast beef and horseradish sandwich. “NO,” he yelled. “TOOK TOO LONG. NOT EATING NOW.” I caught his little hand as he tried to smack my cheek and held him close so that he could not move. His head was against my chest so that my heartbeat might calm him down. 

 

“If you continue to be naughty then there is no cake for you,” I said softly and offered the sandwich, which he grudgingly accepted. I put a buttercream cake finger in his other hand and told him to eat it afterwards.

 

Over the other side of the room a serving elf walked towards us, holding the most delicious dessert in the world. He came nearer and I looked at it with anticipation and delight. My little baby also looked; his big blue eyes large with wonder at the creamy confection in the huge glass dish. The servant set it before us and smiled.

 

My naughty ion threw the piece of cake and it hit Thranduil in the face. “I LOVE IT!” he yelled in delight and reached forward to try and take the trifle bowl in his tiny arms.

 

Merilnis looked at him and smiled as she wiped the buttercream from her husband’s face. “Definitely like Legolas.” 

 

 

**Part 51 – Baby Talk**

 

 

During the night, I awoke for no reason at all. Círdan was on his side, fast asleep and breathing quietly. Cireolas lay on his back, snoring, with his belly full of trifle. Baby snores generally do not wake me as they are not very loud, so I shut my eyes and tried to drift back into dreamland.

 

Various things flitted through my mind, especially how Legolas was not the well-behaved elfling he always told us he was. However, it may explain his management of Mel’s and my own behaviour when younger. Erestor never made any secret of his over-the-top naughtiness when an elfling, but you would think you could rely on at least one of your parents to have been good. For the most part, I was well behaved; there was no point in not being so. Erestor always found out everything anyway. Mel never seemed to grasp this factor when considering whether to be badly behaved or not. The silly elfling always relied on the hope that he would get away with it. I swear Erestor had a crystal ball that monitored our every move.

 

Little Gil-Galad was singing away in my belly. He especially favours the song about lining the virgin warriors up against the wall and taking them one by one. I have a fervent hope that when he is born he is not so coarse. I do not think I could take a baby that sings filthy songs. He would not be presentable anywhere, especially as his speech is just as vulgar. 

 

“Be quiet, Ereodan. I am trying to sleep,” I said in the direction of my belly. We decided our unborn baby’s name a couple of weeks ago. He has not protested, so I assume he likes it.

 

“Nyah, nyah! You can’t make me,” the slightly muffled, reedy voice piped up.

 

“I could give you to a woodcutter, who lives in the forest with his wife, and ask them to bring you up as their own ion.” I smiled as I said it.

 

“When I became an adult I would travel to court and tell everyone that you were my real ada,” the voice giggled. “Then you would look like a right old nasty git.”

 

“If you could get in,” I replied, smiling at his cheekiness. “I would pass a law saying that anyone who looked like Ereinion Gil-Galad was to be thrown in the moat, on sight.”

 

I was joking but the little baby inside me started to cry. “I thought you would be the best ada in the world to be reborn to.” He cried so loudly that Círdan woke up.

 

“Can I hear crying?” he asked. I nodded and pointed at my belly. “What is the matter with Ereodan?”

 

“He’s singing about having virgin warriors again, so I jokingly threatened to give him to a woodcutter family and throw him in the moat if he came to court. He took it the wrong way.”

 

Círdan sighed. “Well, he is a baby. He might not understand that you are joking.” He pulled the covers away, leaving my belly exposed, and knelt down beside me. “Ereodan, stop crying. Ada Ereolas did not mean it. He was joking with you.”

 

“Who is this?” the tiny, tearful voice asked.

 

“It is your other ada,” Círdan replied.

 

“So you are not, Círdan?” the voice asked hopefully.

 

“Well, yes I am,” Círdan replied and looked at me with a confused expression. 

 

“You don’t sound like him.” Is this unborn baby mischievous or not?

 

“Well I am him,” Círdan said with a no nonsense edge in his voice. “And I am going to be your ada.”

 

“Oropher, I was hoping that you had got over your infatuation with old beardy balls and found someone worthy of you,” the small voice prattled. We were both shocked at what he said. “You could have married Erestor, he is much younger, or that simpering halfwit, Elrond, even though he killed more than he cured; talk about kin slaying and nobody knowing what you are up to.”

 

“Erestor is my ada and your grand ada, little one, and don’t be so rude about my husband. Besides, Elrond is probably the most powerful elf in Middle-earth and worthy of everyone’s respect, including yours.”

 

“Well he was a little tosser when I knew him.” I looked at Círdan in disbelief and he put his arm around me. “I can’t believe you married old beardy balls. Tell me you are joking.” Now Ereodan was becoming absolutely horrid. 

 

“Let’s leave him with a woodcutter family and deny all knowledge of his existence,” Círdan said, so that Ereodan could hear. “He is a rude little baby and we do not want an elfling like that.”

 

I smiled and snuggled into my grinning husband. “Noooo, I will be good,” the little voice piped up. “I don’t want to grow up poor.” We said nothing. “I won’t be rude anymore, all right?” We still did not answer him. “Please don’t send me to live with a woodcutter. I asked the Valar especially for you as I thought you would be fun to grow up with as my ada.” Círdan opened his mouth to speak but I put my fingers over his lips. “I promise I won’t be rude to Círdan either.” Then the little voice started to wail. “I haven’t got anything else to promise.”

 

“Ereodan, you will be good and not say anything bad about your new parents, all right?” I said, quite firmly for me. “You will not be born a king, but a mere baby, and we will expect you to act like one.”

 

“All right,” his tearful little voice called out. “Promise me that if I am good, you won’t give me away?”

 

“Well behaved little babies are always welcome,” I replied. “Now I expect no more rudeness. You would not have been this rude when you were Gil-Galad, so why are you now?”

 

“Because I am a baby. I haven’t learnt any socially acceptable limits for my behaviour yet.” He was still crying.

 

“You managed to learn a load of rude songs though,” I pointed out.

 

“I already knew those songs from my past life. There is nothing for me to do other than sing. It is pretty boring being an unborn baby.” The voice sounded so plaintive and melancholic that I felt sorry for my little one. I cupped the slight bump with my hand, even though Ereodan was too small to be felt from the outside. Rubbing gently, where I could feel him moving, seemed to give some reassurance.

 

Círdan bent down and kissed my belly, “Good night, little one,” he said softly. 

 

“Good night,” a sad little voice replied, which pulled at our heartstrings and made us feel very sorry for him.

 

“Go to sleep, little one. You need to sleep too, so that you can grow.” I said.

 

“He he he!” Ereodan chuckled, after remaining silent for a few minutes. “Well that was easy.” I shook my head and sighed.

 

I closed my eyes, hoping to sleep. The room was quiet and still. Cireolas was still snoring and all was peaceful. As I drifted off, I heard a low and tiny voice singing:

 

Ten big warriors in the bed with me,  
Ten big warriors in the bed with me,  
Then one big warrior got out to have a pee,  
There were nine big warriors in the bed with me.

 

Nine big warriors in the bed with me,  
Nine big warriors in the bed with me…

 

 

 

**Part 52 – Morning Time.**

 

 

Círdan left our bed and bathed. It was early morning and he was not sleeping well due to the pain in his face. He never complained. Even when I asked about it, he was non-committal. Not being able to return to sleep I checked on Cireolas. He was still in dreamland, so I went to the bathroom intending to join Círdan in the bath.

 

Looking at him from the doorway, I saw him gently washing his face and wincing as he did so. He did not know that I was there. I wanted to kiss him and hold him. I wanted to tell him how sorry I was. We needed to rein in our tempers and talk before we reacted. We were as bad as one another, in and it had to stop.

 

I waited a few seconds and then walked into the bathroom. Sitting on the ledge behind Círdan, with my legs dangling in the water and either side of his body, I took the jug of fresh water and poured some over his hair. I said nothing and neither did he. The foaming hair oil mixed readily with a small amount of water so that I would not have to rub too hard to make a lather. My fingers carefully stroked through his shoulder length hair; it was growing well after having been hacked off by me during an argument, when we were in Imladris. The rest of the fresh water rinsed the soap away and I kissed the top of his head.

 

“I love you,” he said in a tired voice.

 

“I love you too, Meleth,” I slipped into the bath beside him and laid his head on my chest. “Why do we always lose our tempers?” It was more of a musing than an actual question.

 

“Why do we always lose our tempers irrationally?” he replied as I stroked his hair. “We are going to have to stop. One day we could kill one another.”

 

I smiled and softly told him that I doubted that would stop us, as our arguing had indirectly led to my death in my former life. “Then there is no hope for us.” Círdan laughed and stopped suddenly because of the pain in his cheek.

 

“Come on,” I said, as I left the bath. He climbed out after me and took the towel that I gave him. “Let’s get dressed and wake the brat up.”

 

As we dressed, Cireolas started to stir. He awoke and gave us both a beaming smile, most unusual for him lately. I picked him up and he was wet. “Ada Poo Poo,” he announced, so I took him into the bathroom and sat him on his glass potty.

 

“No, Ada Poo Poo, not you.” He assumed the earnest expression he does so well. He wanted Círdan; he always does when he wants a poo.

 

“Ada Círdan is not feeling well, so you will have to make do with me,” I said rather firmly.

 

“No. Not poo then.” He looked shocked, which is another of his favourite looks. He waggled his tiny index finger at me. “No poo. Want Ada Poo Poo, not you.”

 

“If you hold in your poo, your bottom will explode and there will be no room for trifle,” I lied. Círdan tittered in the other room.

 

The little brat strained and then gave a beaming smile. “I done. Want trifle.”

 

The washbasin filled up with bubbly water and I put Cireolas in it. “Have a wash first. Then you can get dressed and go to breakfast.” I wet his hair with a flannel and he howled in dismay.

 

“Get off,” he yelled. “No wash hair.” His little arms tried to push me away as I put the foaming oils on his head. He screamed the place down; even though I made sure that none went into his eyes.

 

“Be quiet,” I said loudly. “No trifle for elflings who scream when they have their hair washed.” 

 

Círdan offered to take over and I let him. My horrid little ion immediately calmed down and let him rinse his hair. “Now why are you crying little one?”

 

“Want you wash my hair,” he snivelled. 

 

“We don’t always get what we want, young Cireolas,” Círdan said. “From now on you will not cry if your Ada Ereolas does the things for you that I normally do. Do I make myself clear?”

 

He lifted Cireolas out of the water and asked him again if he understood. A big beaming smile was given to my husband and our little brat reached his arms out to cuddle him. “Love you, Ada,” he said and kissed him on his undamaged cheek.

 

Círdan looked at me. “What are we to do with him?” 

 

We went to the healers and Círdan said that we should let him go in alone and take Cireolas to breakfast. I felt sick and could do without the smell of the breakfast hall; however, I agreed and told him to meet us there. 

 

“I won’t be long,” he said and kissed Cireolas and me before opening the door to the healing rooms. The smell of medicinal herbs wafted through and I was glad that we were excused from accompanying him.

 

We went to the breakfast hall and Cireolas demanded trifle. I knew he would. He even tried to hit me with his little fists when I said he could not have any. We sat with Thranduil and Merilnis, who peed on my leg when a baby. She fed Cireolas some sweet porridge. He demanded that Thranduil kick my arse because I would not let him hit me. When he was compared to baby Legolas, the little brat totally denied that he was ever badly behaved and said that everyone else was.

 

Saelir had given me some new medicine to try for my sickness. The odour was foul and I suspected it would have a nasty taste. Taking a fried tomato on my fork, I downed the spoonful of medicine in one go and quickly put the tomato in my mouth. It was every bit as rank as I thought it would be and the tomato did not work that well in disguising the taste. If it works, it will be worth it. 

 

We waited for quite a while after breakfast, but Círdan did not join us. I assumed that he might have forgotten and so we went back to our rooms to see if he was there. When he was nowhere to be found, I left a note for him to meet us in the library. 

 

I read the book about Oropher killing the dragon, leaping twenty-six feet into the air to land on the beast’s head, and then plunging a sword into its brains. Cireolas was thrilled, although I expect he understood very little of it but found the pictures entrancing. He snuggled up on my chest, sucking his thumb and holding on to my ear. He was so warm that I fell asleep too.

 

“Ereolas, wake up,” a familiar voice said and I felt a hand stroking my face. “We are here.” My adas stood before me. They were smiling. Legolas kissed my cheek and Erestor hugged me and also gave me a kiss.

 

“I am sorry I was not there to greet your arrival,” I apologised. They replied that Thranduil had seen me asleep and he ordered that no one wake me until lunchtime.

 

I thought that Círdan would have found us by now, but maybe he had decided to stay in our apartment. My second thought was that I did not feel sick. I was a little tired but the nauseated feeling was gone. “Mel and Fin are in the lunch hall already,” Erestor said and then yawned. “Come on, we will go and meet them.”

 

I woke Cireolas up so that he could see his grandadas, and gave him to Erestor. He started to cry and wanted me to carry him, so Ada quickly handed him back. Then he peed in his nappy and asked for Ada Poo Poo. When I explained that he meant Círdan, they both laughed and remarked how clever he was. 

 

“I will meet you in the lunch hall when I have changed him,” I said and walked with them as far as the hall before going to our rooms.

 

“Where Ada?” Cireolas asked when I was putting a new nappy on him.

 

“I don’t know.” I stuck a pin through the material at the front. 

 

“Why not?” 

 

“He might be waiting for us in the lunch hall.” I put a fresh pair of leggings on my baby, then a pair of split skin, warg hide bootees, before leaving the room.

 

“Want trifle,” Cireolas said as we walked into the lunch room. We made our way to the top table and sat down. I said hello to Mel and Fin and my brother took Cireolas and put him on his lap.

 

“Hello little Cireolas,” Mel said. “Have you been a good elfling for your adas?”

 

“He is just like you were as a little baby,” Merilnis said to Legolas who grinned.

 

“No, me good. Me not naughty. Not ever,” my baby said with an ingenuous expression.

 

“In a pig’s eye,” Thranduil snorted.

 

We carried on laughing and joking. I told the others that Círdan had promised to meet me but had not shown up. “He is a grown elf. He will not come to any harm,” Erestor said. He sat Cireolas on his lap and told him that he could have trifle after his dinner.

 

The conversation flowed and for once Cireolas was well behaved. It has been ages since I laughed so hard and my mood was lifted, so much so that I could not stop smiling. 

 

One of the healers walked into the lunch hall and made his way to us. He stood beside me and talked in low tones. “My Lord. The head healer, Lord Saelir, needs to see you about Lord Círdan. Would you come with me please?”


	20. Part 53 – Erestor: Marriage Guidance Counsellor. Part 54 – Dinner with Cireolas. Part 55 – Círdan revealed.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erestor talks to Círdan and Ereolas about how to handle their tempers. Legolas lectures Ereolas. Cireolas is naughty again, but this time with Erestor who is not standing for it. The bandages come off.

**Part 53 – Erestor: Marriage Guidance Counsellor.**

 

Everyone at the table looked in my direction. Legolas offered to keep Cireolas with him until I returned. 

 

“Would you like me to come with you?” Erestor asked. 

 

I refused. If it was bad news I wanted to face it alone. “I am sure that everything will be all right.” 

 

I told Cireolas to be good, gave him a kiss, and then left the hall. “What has happened to Círdan?” I asked the healer.

 

“It would be more appropriate for you to see the head healer,” he replied. 

 

We did not speak more during our walk to the healing rooms. I entered the main area and was taken to a side room, where Círdan lay in bed, a huge bandage covering most of his face and head. When I held his hand there was no response. 

 

“He will wake in a short while,” Saelir, the head healer, said as he joined me by the bed. “We had to peel the skin back from the side of his face and lift the muscle. His eye orbit was broken and his cheekbone and upper jaw were snapped in half; they have been realigned. Some of the smaller bones at the side of his nose were broken as well. I think we have done a good repair job. To avoid scarring we had to cut his mouth open above the teeth to repair the jaw and elevate the cheekbone. I also released a trapped nerve, which was causing the pain, and I think that is it. He will have some bruising…Are you all right?”

 

My legs felt like jelly. Black spots appeared in front of my eyes and I was falling, unable to do anything about it. Someone caught my shoulders and guided me down to the floor. A pillow was placed under my head. Another healer held my head up as Saelir bent over me smiling as if it was the funniest thing he had seen in the past year.

 

“Drink this,” he said and put a cup to my mouth. It was very sweet lemonade and he said that I had to drink all of it. “In all the time I have known you, young Ereolas; you have never fainted once while listening to any sort of gory description. I am surprised. Maybe it is because you are with child, eh?”

 

“I do not know what got into me.” I was helped up and a chair was brought into the room. I sat on it, cursing myself for being so weak. “Will Círdan be in any pain when he wakes?”

 

“No more than he was before,” Saelir replied. “We will give him lots of pain relief. He will be fine.”

 

“I did not know you were going to treat it today, and yet it seems so logical that you would.”

 

Saelir grinned. “Círdan had no idea either. I gave him some medicine for the pain and told him while he was going unconscious what I was going to do. Well, I will leave you two together. Any problems just give me a shout.”

 

I felt so guilty. After I thanked Saelir he left the room, leaving me with my sleeping husband whose hand I held in my own. I do not know how many times during the next hour I said that I was sorry and kissed his fingers. He awoke panicking and tried to sit up. His hands tried to pull at the dressings on his face. Taking both hands, I guided him back down onto the bed, trying to reassure him. In the end he calmed down. Saelir walked through the door and gave him some light blue medicine to drink through a small slit in the bandage.

 

“This is for your pain, Círdan.” Saelir said and then told him that it had a calming effect also. Círdan drifted in and out of sleep and I continued to hold his hand. 

 

About an hour later, Erestor came into the room. “I have heard about what happened. Is he all right?” 

 

I nodded and bit my lip. “He will be fine, according to Saelir.”

 

“You need to decide what you are going to do. Both of you have explosive tempers and this is not the first time there have been severe consequences. You and Cirdan act before thinking, and that is no way for a marriage to continue. Would you both be better apart?” Erestor looked tired and disappointed.

 

“We can never be apart.” I said, horrified at the thought. “We love one another and I will not be parted from him.” Círdan squeezed my fingers slightly, as if in agreement.

 

“It is a bad environment to bring a child up in.” Erestor took my hand. “The first thing Cireolas said to me was that his ada had hit his other ada and then Thranduil told me everything.”

 

This was too much and I thought it best that Erestor hear the facts. “Círdan was angry with me and shouted at me in front of Cireolas, even though I told him not to; then he poked me in the chest. Cireolas laughed and told Círdan to do it again. I snapped and punched Círdan and told Cireolas to shut up, or else I would throw him out of the window. Círdan completely overreacted and took Cireolas out of the room. I had severe morning sickness and went into the toilet to be sick. Fifteen guards piled on top of me and held sleeping essence to my face. I passed out and awoke in the healing rooms, tied to the bed. Elrohir lectured me about the guards who I injured while trying to resist their efforts to knock me out, and he kept giving me stuff to make me sleep and keep me drowsy. As if being restrained was not enough, I had to lay there drugged while Cireolas was held to my chest so that he could feed. Nenuial managed to stop that, though it was several days before they let me go to my room. Also, I found out that I was not above the law. I was charged with assault on the Lord of the Realm and threatening to kill his ion. I thought no royal had the law applied to them anywhere. Happily, Círdan threw out the charges and explained that the law was old and put in place many years before.” My potted monologue of what happened was unbiased and I hoped that Erestor would accept this over the other versions that might be flying around.

 

“The law was put in place because it was thought that I might kill Círdan.” Erestor smiled. “It was never used and was only supposed to apply to me.” He took Círdan’s hand and addressed him. My husband’s hand contracted slightly. “You and Ereolas need some help here. You need to stop pushing each other and try to remain calm. Your tempers will be the undoing of you both and yet through it all you still love one another; so there really is no need for either of you to get into this state.” He smiled as if in some remembrance and then continued. “At the forefront of your mind must always be the thought that you love each other and you do not want to cause any harm. Keep it like a mantra and think it before doing anything; it will stop your excesses. Think it even when you do not want to. When you want to attack one another, remove yourself from the situation to calm down, or have sex and work out your anger that way.” He smiled and looked at me. “It is what I do, otherwise I would have half-killed your Ada Legolas about a hundred times over and he would have done the same to me.”

 

“I didn’t think you and Ada ever argued, not since Mel and I were elflings at any rate.” I was surprised. 

 

“When we start to argue, we go to bed and do it there. It never goes on for long and afterwards, when we are more relaxed and too tired to argue, we talk and it seems much easier.” Erestor seemed to have all the answers and that might explain why he always seemed to be in bed with Legolas when I was younger. I remember once time in particular, Ada Legolas was not happy that Erestor had spanked Mel for being naughty, even though he thoroughly deserved it. They went into the bedroom and emerged about half an hour later with smiling faces.

 

“We will try, won’t we Meleth?” I said and Círdan gave a small nod.

 

“I will deal with the twins, Elrohir especially.” Erestor stood up and smiled. “Who knows, Glorfindel might want to give them extra warrior training. They will not be able to refuse without Elrond wanting to know why.” He gave me a hug and told me to come to dinner later on; he was sure that Círdan could do without me for a while. After saying goodbye to my sweet one he left the room.

 

“We must never hurt each other like this again.” I kissed Círdan’s fingers.

 

“I love you,” he said through our connection. “Let us put it all behind us and start anew. I will be better soon and probably even more handsome.” I saw him through the small slit in the bandages trying to smile. His grin was lopsided, but I found it heartening.

 

“Are you in any pain?” I asked, tentatively.

 

“No, it doesn’t hurt.” He squeezed my fingers and through the connection he told me that he hoped I was not feeling sick. I replied that I was not.

 

“Would you like me to hold you?” I climbed onto the bed, and put my arms around him.

 

“Feels good,” he mumbled comfortably through our connection and shifted slightly on to his side so that I could position myself closer. “When I fall asleep you must go and have something to eat. You need to be with Cireolas. He is probably playing up by now.”

 

“Legolas can manage the brat.” I snuggled up to him. “When you go to sleep I will leave, but I am not going until then. I want to be with you.” My lips kissed his bare shoulder and I massaged my hand over his chest. “I am going to look after you until you are completely better, and you know what that means.”

 

Círdan’s shoulders shook slightly as he laughed and he held my hand tighter. How I love him and how he loves me. We are blessed that we have a second chance and we must make sure that we do not endanger it. After quietly laying together, Círdan fell asleep and I left the bed. After one last look I left the room.

 

We have our connection and so I would know exactly when he woke up. It was good to be with my family again. Mel made me laugh as he played with Cireolas, who totally adores him. Glorfindel is extremely good with elflings and I think that my little baby would be hard pressed to decide which uncle he likes the best. 

 

Ada Legolas he put his arm around me and I snuggled into his shoulder. Everyone might think I am Oropher, but when I am with my Ada Legolas I am his ion and I want a cuddle. I am a hundred and three years old and my ada still cuddles me!

 

How lucky am I?

 

 

 

 

**Part 54 – Dinner with Cireolas.**

 

The day after Círdan had his face fixed, we spent most of the day together. Various relatives visited, asking if he was all right.

 

“Poor Círdan. Ereolas, you really must take into account just how strong you are. You have been dreadfully irresponsible.” Ada Legolas sighed disapprovingly.

 

“I have already been lectured by Ada Erestor,” I replied.

 

“Well you should listen to him.” Legolas sighed again, there was the suspicion of a look where he was considering whether I had been cheeky or not. “He is very wise and you should take his words to heart. He knows what he is talking about.”

 

“He told us to have lots of sex when we argue and so that is what we are going to do.” I grinned wickedly. “After all Ada, it works for you.” Then I made out to pause and reconsider. “Unless you count that time you broke his jaw with one slap; you irresponsible Ada you! You obviously don’t know your own strength.”

 

“Well, he was too drunk to kiss and make up in bed and said a former lover’s name. I had every right to.” Legolas smirked as though he was thinking that I could not get one over on him.

 

“No, you did not have every right.” I equalled the smirk. “Erestor was in no position to manage the situation and so you let your inherited Oropher-like tendencies come to the fore and broke his jaw with one slap. You carried it on in the morning, even though he was in pain and injured.”

 

“So that makes me nearly as bad as you, except that for most of the time I do not indulge in the luxury of losing my temper. I am very successful in suppressing it.” He gave a double intensity smirk. “I seem to be able to control your tendencies much better than you ever could.” He smiled widely. “I win that one.”

 

“I do not care if you win or not,” I replied. I gave him a triple intensity smirk, which I could tell made him wonder furiously how he could beat me and let me know that I had not won at all.

 

Legolas merely grinned and raised his eyebrows, a sneaky and underhand thing to do in facial smirk contest. “Ereolas, is it kind to be arguing with your Ada in front of the husband you thoughtlessly injured in a rash display of temper? It will only bring back the bad memories.” He rose from his chair and poked his tongue out at me. Cireolas was stirring. Ada picked him up and kissed him; he was rewarded with a beaming smile.

 

“Love you,” Cireolas said and blew a raspberry on Legolas’ face, which made him laugh.

 

“Do you want to see Grand Ada Erestor?” Legolas asked.

 

“Want see Gada Restor.” My little one began jiggling excitedly in my ada’s arms. “See Gada Restor.”

 

“I will see you later on,” Legolas said triumphantly. “Now behave and no hitting one another, or else I will spank you both and send you to bed early.” He chuckled at his own joke and left with my ion in his arms.

 

Círdan stirred and I kissed his lips through the slit in the bandage. “Meleth, do you want a drink?” I put the glass to his lips. He drank a small amount and turned onto his side to face me, so that I could put my arms around him. We lay together for a while and I must have fallen asleep.

 

When I awoke, the winter sun was setting. Through the window, I could see the snow falling, which is unusual weather for Mirkwood, but not unheard of. How quickly the seasons change. It was lucky that we set off from Mithlond when we did; any later and we would have had to postpone until nearly springtime. The light was dimming and it felt less warm in the room, so I covered Círdan’s shoulders. 

 

Saelir came in the room. “Look at that snow,” he said, peering out of the window behind me. He held a bowl of pureed food and told Círdan to sit up. It did not look very nice, but Saelir explained that the food was ground and still the same as before. Círdan would not have to use his jaw too much when eating. I put a blanket around Círdan’s shoulders and told him through our connection when to open his mouth, as he still has his eyes covered with the bandage.

 

Círdan said, through our connection, that the food was not so bad. After the food was finished, Saelir gave Círdan some medicine to stop any pain and reduce the swelling; it would also make him drowsy. Sleep was quick in coming. I left him to go to dinner.

 

My little baby was being very cute and not naughty at all. However, when he saw me he started to cry and held out his arms, so I picked him up off Mel’s lap and cuddled him. I cannot believe it but I actually missed the little spud and it seems as though he missed me too.

 

Like Mel, Cireolas has a taste for tomato ice cream. I gave him a very small amount of mine and his little eyes widened. “Want more, Ada,” he said with a huge smile on his face.

 

“You will be having dinner soon, so not too much little one,” I said pleasantly and kissed his cheek.

 

“WHAT?” Cireolas said in a shocked voice. “I AM PRINCE. WANT MORE.”

 

“Be quiet, Cireolas,” Erestor said. “Do not talk to your Ada like that.”

 

“Who do you think you are?” Cireolas said leaning forward to my ada. “You are not prince, so shut up!”

 

“Someone who is bigger than you,” Erestor replied. He reached over and took Cireolas from me. “Now, why are you being so naughty?”

 

“You naughty, not me, but still love you.” Cireolas said with his sweetest smile before putting his thumb in his mouth.

 

“He is worse than me,” Mel said with a look of amazement. “Don’t stand for that Ada. Smack his ass.”

 

Cireolas took his thumb out of his mouth and waggled his finger at Mel. “You naughty. I never naughty. Ever.” He looked up at Erestor. “I not naughty, am I?”

 

“How do you put up with him?” Erestor asked me. He looked down at my sweetly smiling ion and told him that he was the rudest baby on Middle-earth.

 

“We ignore his tantrums for the most part,” I replied. “Or we are firm with him. He tends only to be naughty when Círdan or I are present. If we are not in the room he is very well behaved.”

 

“Good idea,” Legolas said. “When Mel was tiny and acted atrociously we could do nothing but ignore him or be very firm. It was according to what he did as to how we reacted.”

 

“I was never naughty,” Mel said. “It was Ereolas, not me.”

 

“I remember when you were very small. My bedroom was next door to yours and you would wake me up singing. You told me that you sang so early in the morning because apparently I adored your pure and sweet voice.” Glorfindel smirked, “You were a weird and strange little elfling.”

 

“And yet you loved me,” Mel grinned. “You still do.”

 

“Hm…” Glorfindel said and laughed aloud as Mel’s fingers squeezed either side of his leg, just above the kneecap. “Stop that or else I will tell little Cireolas just how naughty you really were. We all remember when Erestor dragged you out of the dinner hall during a tantrum and you were trying to kick his legs at the same time.”

 

“You are not to do that,” Erestor said to my little one, who was looking at his uncle with something akin to hero worship.

 

“I be like Unca Mel when I get big,” Cireolas said to Erestor, who told him that my brother received many spankings for his behaviour. Glorfindel chuckled and added that he still did. Mel was not amused.

 

The food arrived and Cireolas had a small bowl of minced stew with mashed potatoes. Erestor gave him a spoonful, or attempted to, but the little twat pushed it away and it fell onto the napkin spread over Erestor’s lap. “No,” he said. “I want your dinner. I am prince, give me it.”

 

“Make me,” Erestor said in my little one’s face as he held him in front of him. “Shouting won’t work either and size is against you.” 

 

Cireolas knew when to give in and Erestor did look very angry. “I eat my dinner,” he said with a cherubic smile.

 

There was no more naughtiness. Cireolas fell asleep, so I took him to our rooms, washed him and put his Hello Vampire baby pyjamas on. He looked sweet and innocent as I wrapped him in his fluffy oliphaunt blanket. 

 

How I love this naughty little elfling.

 

 

 

 

**Part 55 – Círdan revealed.**

 

For the next week, I stayed in Círdan’s room. At his insistence my evenings and mealtimes were spent with family but the rest of my time was spent with him. I found it very tiring, but at least I was not feeling so sick anymore. There was the occasional twinge, mainly when it was nearing the time to take some more of the herbal extract that Saelir prepared for me, but it was not a patch on what I had suffered before.

 

The bandages were due to be removed this morning and I was nervous, to say the least. What if my husband’s face was deformed? He would be so angry with me and I would feel so guilty for having been the cause of it. I tried to talk to him about it, but he dismissed my fears and said that whatever happened he would still love me. Saelir listened to my concerns and told me that he had every faith in his abilities and that I should too. Healers can be so arrogant sometimes.

 

The great unveiling was due to take place. I sat Cireolas on my knee, so he could watch. I did this at Círdan’s request; he said that if his face had changed our baby might not recognise him, so he needed to see him being unwrapped. I held my breath whilst the bandages were carefully unwound. A big wodge of cotton wool along the whole of the side of his head and face fell away and there he stood.

 

“Not bad at all,” Saelir smiled. “One of my successes.”

 

Círdan’s face was swollen but the shape it should be. The bruising was faint and gave his skin a patchy yellow and green tinge. Saelir touched his jaw and cheek. “Can you feel that?” 

 

It turned out that Círdan had very little feeling in the side of his face. Saelir said that it would come back in time and decided that he would leave the bandages off. 

 

Círdan is eating more solid food now, but would still have difficulty with a slice of meat or anything crunchy. I asked if I could take him to lunch. Saelir said that he was happy for Círdan to go back to our rooms, so long as the wound running from the top of his forehead and down the side of his head to just below the ear was kept clean. He showed me the long, thin red line where he had cut through the scalp and the barest minimum of hair was shaved away. 

 

“You have done a wonderful job,” I said, full of awe. “I thought it would be much worse.” There was not a single scar on Círdan’s face; it was all hidden behind the hairline.

 

Saelir beamed and told Círdan to come back for daily checks and to get lots of sleep and eat properly. Then he gave him a big bottle of medicine to take with him. During all of this, Cireolas never said a word. He stared fascinated at Círdan and Saelir. He waved as we left.

 

“Ada, come, we eat now,” Cireolas said almost shyly. “We have tomato ice-cream.”

 

Círdan took him from me and we made our way to lunch. My adas joined us and were very complimentary about Círdan’s face. If Saelir had not let him look in the mirror he would have been extremely suspicious of their fulsome praise. For a change, Cireolas was very good during lunch and Erestor offered to take him to feed the ducks by the river. We were left alone in the lunch hall, sitting together, our arms lazily linked and chattering quietly.

 

“We have not loved one another for a month now, Melethen.” Círdan brushed his fingers across the nape of my neck. I grinned because the same thought had been running through my head at the same time.

 

We found ourselves back in our rooms very quickly; I am sure we broke the speed of a ray falling from Anor in our hurry to return. We hastily stripped off and giggled like naughty children as we did so.

 

“I love you,” Círdan breathed as I ran my fingers along the tender skin under his navel. He put his strong arms around me and I melted in my desire. 

 

“Will it hurt if I kiss you?” I asked.

 

He smiled. “Let’s try,” We shared the softest and most careful kiss. I could not stop stroking his firm muscles and I ached for him, a longing that burned inside, so fierce that I could not hold myself. 

 

“I am yours,” I said as I kissed his neck.

 

“You have always been mine,” he said softly, pulling me towards the bed.

 

We joined as if it was our first time. I did not want any careless action to hurt his face and so I was very careful where I touched and kissed. It was long and slow, deliciously unhurried and I was overwhelmed by the long missed pleasures of loving my only one.

 

All the while we looked into each other’s eyes and murmured soft words of love. Our haze of blissful indulgence swept our fëar together and held us joined for the merest of moments in what seemed like a lifetime of sybaritic ecstasy. We came down from our highest of highs and held on, not wanting ever to let go.

 

We lay panting with limbs entangled. I gave my love the sweetest of smiles. “I have missed you,” I said, stroking a hard nipple, and then I kissed his lips.

 

Turning on his side, Círdan swept his hand along my body making me shiver with anticipation and need. “Again?”


	21. Part 56 – Playtime. Part 57 – Saying Sorry.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ereolas and Círdan play with Cireolas. Ereolas is frustrated and has tea with Elrohir.

.

 

**Part 56 – Playtime.**

 

We had a free afternoon and so we decided to play with our ion. I put some toys on the bed and Cireolas squealed with delight when he saw them.

 

“Look Ada, all my toys,” Cireolas said, throwing his little arms up and down. “Look at duck,” he said and gave it a kiss. I took the duck, which he offered me, and told him that it was a flying duck that could poop on elves’ heads if they were not careful. He thought that most amusing. 

 

We spent the next half an hour threading chunky blocks of wood onto a piece of string. I am proud to say that after a few attempts Cireolas was quite proficient at it. He crawled up the bed to Círdan and told him to wear it. “Put round your neck,” he said, and so my sweet one did. I expect he thought ‘anything for a quiet life’.

 

“Read book,” Cireolas said excitedly. Mel bought him the ‘Hello Vampire Book for Babies’. The story is not that interesting to an adult, which it would not be, but to a baby it is apparently written by a genius who knows just what tiny elflings like to read. It is published by the Stiffy Toy Company, who seem to have the monopoly on things like that in Middle-earth. Anyway, we opened the big pages. Cireolas started lifting the little flaps to look behind the vampire coffin lids and giant bat wings. I asked him the name of each vampire that popped up. We have read this book many times in the past few days and so he was able to tell me.

 

This book is special because it has Cireolas’ name on every page. Mel said that he ordered it especially, and he also bought a whole stack of Hello Vampire stuff for my little ion. Cireolas now has the bed wear, the bed sheets, books, toys, bath toys, baby towels, clothing, circlets; you name it and it will have been ‘Hello Vampired’. Cireolas even has Hello Vampire braid clasps for his hair. He wanted me to wear them to lunch and so I did. We both wore them, much to Círdan’s amusement. He told Cireolas that we looked like twins, which my ion believed for a few moments because he is a twit. There was much laughter in the lunch hall concerning my braids, but I do not care because it was for my ion and I told everyone so. Mel did not laugh. He still wears Hello Vampire braid clasps and has done so since an elfling. No one in their right mind would make fun of him.

 

Back to the book. My tiny ion pointed to his name and said, “Look, me.” Then he pointed to his name on another part of the page. “Look me here too.”

 

Yes! My ion can read, even if it is only one word. I was very congratulatory and he was extremely happy. He tapped Círdan on the leg, no doubt to tell him how clever he was.

 

“Don’t wake Ada,” I said softly. “He has not been very well and needs his sleep.”

 

“It is all right,” Círdan said sleepily. “What did you want little one?”

 

“Ada, look I read.” He pointed to his name on the page. “Look Cirrus.” He cannot say his name, which is our fault really as we should have given him one without so many vowels in it. Still, at the time we did not consider it. What parent would?

 

“Well done, what a marvellously clever little boy you are.” Círdan beamed. Then he lay back down.

 

“You sleepy?” Cireolas asked.

 

“Yes, Ada very tired,” Círdan replied and smiled as he shut his eyes.

 

“Then when you go to bed. You no play with toys,” Cireolas admonished. “Keep you awake and you tired next day.” So he did listen all those times I told him to go to sleep. “It your own fault.” He waggled his finger at Círdan who laughed.

 

“You are a very cheeky baby.” Cirdan pulled Cireolas on to his chest.

 

I snuggled next to my husband and smiled at our delightful ion. He crawled over to me and gave me a big wet kiss on the lips. “Love you Ada.” He grinned as I replied that I loved him too.

 

Círdan and I moved slightly apart and put our baby in-between us. I picked up one of his dolls. “Look Fëanor is climbing over Ada Círdan.” I even did the voices. “It is so hard climbing over the Círdan Mountain; he is so big and muscle bound. If he moves an inch I am sure I will fall off.”

 

Cireolas was wide eyed with excitement. “Ada, move,” he squealed.

 

“At last I am over the Círdan Mountain. Where is Cireolas so that I can give him a big kiss?” I said still using a doll type voice.

 

Cireolas grinned so that I could see his two bottom teeth, which have just started to poke through his lower gums. He covered his eyes with his hands and giggled. The doll’s face came into his view as he peeped through his fingers. “Hello Cireolas. I want a great big kiss.”

 

Cireolas giggled helplessly and Círdan, amused by it all, tickled his belly. “Look Fëanor is tickling your belly,” he said and laughed because the giggling increased. “Look here is your teddy, he wants a kiss too.”

 

“Look, I think Maglor wants a kiss as well,” I picked up the doll and put it beside Cireolas who laughed so hard that he was nearly out of breath.

 

“No kiss toys,” he spluttered and then he sneezed and bits of snot sprayed on my cheek. He found this hysterically funny. Círdan wiped his hand because a small ribbon of it landed there too.

 

I picked our little ion up and stroked his back as he calmed down. There was a wet patch through his leggings. He is getting quite good at being dry but in the fun he must have forgotten. He still wears nappies and until a waterproof outer is invented, that does not hurt a baby’s skin, then it is a problem that will continue. Círdan looked down at the bed where a small patch of wetness had soaked through the sheet and the two covers.

 

“I wanted to sleep,” he said wearily. 

 

I went to the cupboard and took new bedding and clothing out. “I will change Cireolas first and then the bed. Lay down, Meleth, on the dry side.” 

 

I changed our tiny ion and put him in his cot. After all the fun he was yawning, ready to sleep. Then I changed the bed and put the old sheets in the laundry bin for collection. Círdan looked tired and so I told him to take his clothing off and get into bed. “You need a deep sleep, Meleth.” I massaged his shoulders. When I stopped, his eyes were shut and his breathing was even.

 

My book was on the bedside table and so I sat in the chair to read it. Círdan opened one eye, “Put that down and get into bed. You need a sleep too.”

 

I did not feel tired, but I did as I was told. I was not about to argue with my husband; sometimes he sees things about me that I do not. I stripped off and climbed between the sheets. Círdan put his arms around me. “Meleth, you are pregnant and doing too much. From now on, you are to have a sleep every afternoon.”

 

“I am not tired,” I murmured, snuggling up to his warmth.

 

“Yes, you are,” he smiled and closed my eyelids with his fingers, then kissed them.

 

I lay in his arms and drifted away. It felt good to have peace and for my family to be happy again.

 

I love my little family so much, even the little unborn one who was singing the song about the virgin warriors against the castle wall. Círdan gently stroked my lower belly and told him to sleep too. I smiled with eyes shut and drifted away into the land of dreams, safe in the arms of the one I love.

 

It does not get any better than this.

 

 

 

 

**Part 57 – Saying Sorry.**

 

 

Círdan told me to stay in bed while he took Cireolas to the crèche. They do a babies painting group every weekend and he loved it last week. The babies crawl around in their nappies, dipping their hands, knees and feet in different foodstuffs and smearing it onto a huge, thick cotton sheet beneath them. My little ion loves to dip his hands in the jam; I swear more goes in his mouth than on the sheet. After the ‘painting’, the sheet is displayed on the crèche wall for a day and all the parents are encouraged to admire their babies’ artistic efforts. A thorough washing afterwards and the sheet is ready for the next painting session. Whoever thought of the idea is a genius. They do it for about an hour and then the babies are washed and dressed. Afterwards, the crèche workers take them to the room of sensory delights, where there are coloured candle lights in hanging lanterns, different tactile surfaces and hanging toys and objects to play with. Just outside the sensory area, a group of minstrels play ‘music for babies’, so that it adds to the experience. My little ion came back very calm after last week’s session. A chilled baby is worth all the mithril in Arda, so I am looking into setting something similar up in Mithlond when we return. 

 

I must have fallen back to sleep, because it seemed only seconds before I saw Círdan’s face above mine, asking me if I wanted to go to afternoon tea. I put my arms around his neck and kissed the tip of his nose. He smiled and pulled me up. “Put this on.” He draped his dressing gown over my shoulders and held me close in his arms, so he could kiss my lips. I tried to reciprocate but he pulled back and told me that we should go and eat; otherwise, we would end up having sex and be too late.

 

“There is always dinner tonight,” I suggested.

 

“Now that you are able to eat, you should. Besides, we will have lots of sex tonight.” Cirdan stroked my cheek and gave that special look which turns me to jelly every time. “I will be a wild animal. I will be your tiger.”

 

I could have fainted with the anticipation of the pleasure to come, “And I will be your lion, your golden lion.” My voice had a soft husky edge to it and I saw Círdan’s pupils dilate with desire and his lips part slightly.

 

I thought I had won but Cirdan picked me up in his strong arms and carried me out of the bedroom. I had to make do with looking at his reflection in the mirror on the way out. Such rippling, hard muscles; there is nowhere on him that is less than perfect. I am very lucky to be blessed with such a beautiful and wonderful soulmate. 

 

One last trick remained up my sleeve. “Kiss me before you put me down?”

 

“Oh, no, no, no,” he laughed. “If I do that we will definitely not go to tea.”

 

Oh well. It could have worked.

 

I dressed quickly and was not helped at all by my husband, who kept touching and kissing me. He handed me some very tight leggings and smirked that I should also wear a robe. I replied that so should he, as he was as noticeably as hard as I was. He took me in his arms and kissed me, never once letting me deepen it into anything that might have made him change his mind about going to tea.

 

What a tease Círdan is! He smacked his hand off my bum and told me to hurry up, as he was hungry. I started quickly to braid my hair and he took my hand. “Let your hair hang loose, Meleth, so that all can see its beauty.”

 

I do not know how he was able to hold himself, nor I for that matter. He took the hairbrush and slowly and sensuously brushed my hair. It felt so good. “Meleth,” I pleaded. “Please let us go to bed. I ache for you.”

 

“Sometimes it is good to wait for what we want,” Círdan teased, still brushing my hair. “Tonight will be all the more special because of it.”

 

“Please?” I said in my sexiest voice.

 

I was met with the most stunning, deep and erotic kiss. “No,” Círdan smiled as our lips broke contact. “You need to eat.” He grinned, took my arm and led me out of our rooms. “Now you are able to take something for sickness that works, it would be a good idea not to miss any more meals. Let us start as we mean to go on.”

 

When he ends a sentence with those words, it is pointless arguing with him; he is determined and it will happen no matter what. It is best to agree, if only for a peaceful life; after all, he only decides things, which he thinks are good for both of us and normally after he has carefully considered the situation. There is also the fact that he is sometimes right when he does this.

 

We have arrived early and there were a few elves sitting at various tables. My family were not at their usual table; however, Elrohir was sitting alone. I needed to talk to him and so I asked Círdan to give me a few minutes before coming over.

 

“I will see if I can interest your adas in coming to tea. It is about time you made your peace with Elrohir. Good luck.”

 

Elrohir was engrossed in a book and did not see me approach. When I took the chair next to him, he jumped in surprise and seemed a little apprehensive, as he should.

 

“Forgive me, I have not been fair to you,” I lied as I embraced him. I have no choice but to seek peace with Elrohir, simply because we cannot afford for any discord between the elves of the ruling families. I doubt we will ever be friends again because of how he treated me in the healing rooms.

 

“I was not fair to you either,” he replied quietly, putting his arms around me.

 

“It matters not,” I replied, keeping my arms around him, even though I wanted to punch his face to a pulp.

 

“It does matter,” he replied. “You terrified me, and I know I overreacted but you used to be so weak. How did you get to be so strong?”

 

“When the Valar gave me back my old body, they must have given me back my old strength. I did not even know that I had hurt Círdan so badly, and he certainly did not tell me. I honestly do not remember injuring any of the warriors that piled on top of me. That is why I found it so hard to accept being tied to the bed, and it is also why I was so awful to you. I apologise. You had every right to be apprehensive.” I loosened the embrace slightly; there is only so much goodwill within me. “I hope we can be friends again.”

 

“We will always be friends,” Elrohir replied and smiled at me. Then he went red, as if remembering something.

 

“What is it?” I asked softly.

 

“Elladan and I told Círdan that his face would get better on its own. We did not realise that…”

 

“You could not have done anything for him while we were travelling.” 

 

“I will never be as good a healer as my Ada,” Elrohir sighed. “He has trained both of us and neither of us really have any heart in the subject. I would rather be a warrior, but he insists that we become as good as him.” At least Elrohir could acknowlede that he was incompetent.

 

“When I was Oropher, your Ada was not that good a healer. It took him many years to become as good as he is.” Elrohir looked at me surprised, so I continued. “When I died on the battlefield, your ada could not have helped me back then, but if the same happened today I know for a fact that he could probably save me. There is no one I trust more than him when it comes to healing, although Saelir is very good too. Perhaps one day we will have a great healer in Mithlond.” I purposely left out the trivial detail that Sauron had torn my head off and kicked it across the battlefield.

 

“Saelir should be a good healer.” Elrohir chuckled. “He has been in place for thousands of years.”

 

“You would think that he would be bored with it by now, wouldn’t you?” 

 

Círdan put his hand on my shoulder. “Have you ordered yet?”

 

“No. No one has come to take our order.”

 

“Well this is not getting you fed, is it?” Círdan marched over to the waiters, who were in a group and talking. “Is there a reason for not attending the table over there?” His voice was so loud that we could clearly hear him. 

 

“The elf serving that table has not arrived for work yet,” one of them replied. He turned away to carry on a conversation with his colleague.

 

“So?” Círdan said to the rude elf in a rather stroppy tone. “Your employment problems are of no interest to me. Now it is quite simple; you take my order or I will run you through with my sword.”

 

“You cannot treat me like this,” the elf protested and then began hastily writing the order as my heavy-handed husband drew his sword. I felt a tiny bit sorry for the elf, all his workmates stepped away as far as they decently could, but it meant that we would have some tea.

 

“Do not think to sneeze on the sandwiches or cough on the cakes, because I will know.” Círdan put his sword back and told the elf to hurry up.

 

The tea arrived very quickly. As the hall filled up, it was apparent that the elf had not turned up for work at all because our area was cordoned off with a rope and three stands. We departed just in time to avoid my loud ion, Thranduil, completely blowing his top about the backlog of elves waiting for a table when there were several tables empty of occupants. I do not know the result because Elrohir, Círdan and I were on the way to the crèche to pick up Cireolas.

 

My little baby was very excited to see Elrohir and gave him a big kiss. “Do you want to come with me to the library?” Elrohir asked Cireolas.

 

“Read Happy Vampire,” Cireolas asked. He often says ‘Happy’ instead of ‘Hello’ when referring to the fictional vampire. Elrohir took him off in the direction of the books, leaving Círdan and me alone.

 

We went into the garden and sat on the bench next to the rose bushes. In the distance, we could hear Thranduil still booming about the unused tables. I mused for a millisecond on how an ion of mine had such a loud voice and then turned my attention to my love.

 

“I am proud of you, Meleth,” Círdan said. “It takes a great elf to be a peacemaker.” He kissed my cheek as I snuggled into him. “You are a great elf.”

 

I smiled and snuggled up to my love. “If I were that great I would not get into these situations,” I closed my eyes feeling as though a weight had lifted from my shoulders.

 

Círdan held me just that little bit closer, “Meleth,” he whispered, “We are having dinner in our rooms and an early night. I have already arranged for Mel and Glorfindel to look after Cireolas and we can love one another with abandon.”

 

I looked up at my love and gave him a huge smile. “You are the most wonderful husband anyone could have.”

 

Cirdan smiled. “Yes, I am.” Then he smiled broadly. “You know, I would really like a drink of milk.”

 

.


	22. Part 58 – The Regime.  Part 59 – Hurrah for Elrond! Part 60 – Saving Ereolas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Círdan works out a new regime for Ereolas, who is not impressed. Elrond reassures Ereolas and Círdan. Círdan argues with Manwë as he fears for Ereolas’ life.

**Part 58 – The Regime.**

 

 

Círdan has added more rules to my life.

 

“You are pregnant and doing too much,” he said, when I protested. “You have also not been eating properly because of the morning sickness and I love you too much to let you come to harm.”

 

There is no use arguing with him when he is being like that. No matter how much I argued he would eventually get his own way. However, it was rare for him to insist upon anything absolutely and so things might change, but then again they might not. We would have to see.

 

It is not all bad. If Cireolas wakes during the night Círdan has decided that I am not to get up to see to him but to go back to sleep. I always saw to him before and it will be interesting to see how long my husband’s resolve lasts; my little ion can be pretty demanding when he wakes up. 

 

Breakfast in bed and getting up late in the morning, with healthy meals and regular naps is my new regime. I am to laze around all the time, doing nothing. I am not to even run a bath for myself or take one unaccompanied because accidents can happen in the bathroom, according to my sweet one who has been in the library looking up various incidents. We are to have early nights and I am to make sure that I do not strain myself picking Cireolas up. I fell about laughing when Círdan said this but then I stopped when I realised that he was perfectly serious.

 

“He weighs hardly anything,” I said.

 

“I would not ask you to do this if I did not think it important.” Círdan sat on the bed, next to me, and put his arm around my shoulders. “Saelir says that little Ereodan is not growing as he should and that you need plenty of rest and good food to get back on course.”

 

“I trust the Valar would tell me that they had changed their mind about Ereodan being born, if they intended that he should not be,” I replied. “They are the ones who insisted on me giving birth to him.”

 

“Who knows the ways of the Valar?” Círdan smiled, with the most superior air. “No, I think we will do what I have decided until Saelir gives you the all clear.”

 

“Ah well,” I replied. “We can have lots more sex to fill the time.” I grinned at my husband and he slowly shook his head.

 

“No more sex until Saelir says that it is all right to do so.” He tried to look as though he agreed with this but I could see that even he thought it a bit extreme.

 

“It does not mean that I cannot take you in my mouth,” I said. Círdan smiled sadly and replied that he would never partake of a pleasure that was denied to me. 

 

If it is not one thing, it is another. Nothing in this pregnancy is going smoothly and I feel frustrated and depressed. I do hope that little Ereodan is all right as I have become rather fond of him. I find his singing most amusing, even though a part of me is still mortified at the subject matter of his songs. I share Círdan’s hope that he will not remember them when he is born.

 

We went to lunch and Círdan held Cireolas. I was surprised to see Elrond and Celebrían there. They were sitting next to Elladan and Elrohir and waved to us to join their table as we walked in the room. My Ada’s, Mel, Glorfindel, Thranduil and Merilnis were already there.

 

“We are having an impromptu short visit, so that we can see Elladan and Elrohir,” Celebrían said as she took a mouthful of tomato ice cream. “We brought their Yule presents with us.”

 

“We travelled by eagle,” Elrond chipped in. “Only took a few hours. Anyway, how are you?”

 

“I am fine,” I replied and smiled. I did not feel fine. In fact, I was getting pretty annoyed as Círdan insisted on choosing a healthy lunch for me. Is there nothing that I am able to do for myself, I wondered. 

 

We chatted lightly as I ate my three-bean mousse surprise for the starter. It is not a favourite of mine and I intended leaving it after a few spoonfuls. “Eat it,” Círdan urged in my ear and so I did. I was not inclined to argue, as I was upset at the thought of little Ereodan not growing. I was too concerned at what this might mean to let anything else affect me.

 

I think my face must have betrayed my anxiety because Erestor, who sat on my other side, whispered in my ear that he wanted Elrond to see me after lunch. He told me that one of the reasons for the visit was that Elrohir had written to him about the incident where I hurt Círdan and all of the guards. “Am I to listen to a lecture off Elrond?” I asked. “Because if so I will not be meeting with him. I have had enough of everything. My whole life at the moment is swinging from one bad thing to another. There is no let up.”

 

“I do not believe that this is his intention. I have already discussed what happened and he is of the opinion that you were not responsible for your actions. I think he wants to see for himself how you are progressing.”

 

“Not very well according to Saelir,” I replied after finishing a mouthful of the bland bean mousse. “According to him, little Ereodan has not grown as he should. Círdan has imposed a list of things he wants me to do because of that.” I told Erestor about the frequent naps, no sex, food choices and about picking Cireolas up. I added that if the Valar wanted Ereodan to be born then he would be, regardless of what a healer thought. Happily, he agreed with me.

 

The next course was roast beef, which Círdan picked for me. I would have chosen it anyway but it would have been nice to do it for myself. “I am only trying to do what is best for you,” he told me when he saw my face. Happily, he did not say it aloud, it would have been most embarrassing.

 

Afterwards Círdan chose dessert for me. “I do not like rice pudding,” I said softly in a warning tone.

 

“You will do as you are told,” Círdan replied in an angry whisper. “Someone has to look out for you.”

 

The rice pudding was placed in front of me and I wondered why I was allowing this. My elleth type emotions were threatening to rise up and I was trying to suppress them. I felt extremely depressed and a little fearful about the health of my tiny baby inside me, even though I trust the Valar implicitly when they say he will be born. I also felt angry and helpless and not in control of my life.

 

“Eat,” Círdan said in my ear and squeezed my hand, in what I am sure he thought was a conciliatory and reassuring gesture.

 

“I do not want it,” I said flatly. “Furthermore I am not eating it.”

 

“Get on with it,” Círdan hissed. “Everyone is looking at you.”

 

I slammed my spoon down, glared at him as I stood up, and walked out. I felt the eyes of every single elf in the hall boring into my back. I hurried quickly to our rooms, flung myself on the bed, and with a massive effort of self will I stopped my elleth type emotions from bursting forth. I expected Círdan to race after me but was glad when he did not show up.

 

I did not hear the door open, but I felt the hand upon my shoulders. “Ereolas.” 

 

 

**Part 59 – Hurrah for Elrond!**

 

 

I told Elrond everything and my elleth type feelings chose that moment to spring free from my iron self control. He placed his arm around my shoulders as I explained all that happened. 

 

“I think Círdan panicked, that is all,” I said when telling him about the set of rules my husband had imposed on me.

 

“The baby will be born, regardless,” Elrond told me. “You are right to trust the Valar. If they say something will be done, it will be, They rarely change their minds, if at all.”

 

“I am overwhelmed by how awful this pregnancy is. I do not want any more,” I said meaningfully to Elrond, who I knew understood perfectly what I meant.

 

“When we deliver little Ereodan, I will take away that part of you,” he reassured me. “Be happy now because he is your last ever baby and you will never have another one.”

 

I gave a weak smile. “Thank you.” He let go of my shoulders. Suddenly, I felt drained and the bed seemed so comfortable. My eyes stung from crying and felt heavy. 

 

“Saelir is happy for me to make a final decision as to how we will progress,” Elrond told me in his healer’s voice. He told me to lie on the bed, so that he could examine me. I pulled my leggings down to expose my belly and he felt the area just under my navel, after rubbing his hands together to warm them.

 

“The baby is small, but within the limits, just.” He smiled as if relieved. “That is probably because you were sick so much. He is alive and kicking in there. I do not think he is very happy that I have just woken him.”

 

“I went to Saelir because he stopped singing and I wondered if he was all right.” I said as Elrond listened to my belly with an intent expression on his face.

 

“Gil-Galad, why are you not singing anymore?” Elrond said loudly, causing the tiny baby inside me to jump.

 

“Because I don’t want to,” Ereodan replied in his little, tinny voice. “I am incredibly bored in here and nothing I do eases it.”

 

“I see,” Elrond said to my belly. “Is there anything we can do about that?”

 

“Probably not,” my tiny baby replied sadly. “I wish the Valar had told me it would be this awful. There are only so many times one can listen to the same Hello Vampire story without going insane.” He started to cry and I felt awful. I made a mental note to limit the reading of Cireolas’ favourite book so that Ereodan would not be upset further.

 

“It is only for another nine months,” Elrond said softly. “You have done a quarter of it already.” My baby cried even louder at that. “We will see what we can do.” 

 

I lay on my side because Elrond wanted to examine me from the back. I hoped Círdan did not choose that point to walk into the room. I would have been most embarrassed if he did. One’s body is not one’s own when pregnant. “Hm… You are small inside and that is why Ereodan is not growing. I have seen this before. He will be a small baby, but will be perfectly healthy. Your womb is trying to expand but it is meeting with solid muscle from your abdomen. It will give way eventually.” He removed his finger from me and went into the bathroom to wash his hands.

 

I pulled my leggings up, heartened at the news and waited for him to come back. He said that I needed to watch what I ate to make sure that Ereodan was receiving the maximum goodness from the food, and that I should relax as much as possible; however, turning it into a regime was not a good idea. “I will tell Círdan this. No more arguments either; it is also not a good idea to do any sparring or weapons training. Just relax and let those muscles soften a bit.”

 

“Can we have sex?” I asked, a bit too eagerly I thought upon reflection.

 

“Well of course you can,” Elrond laughed. “I will tell Círdan that as well.”

 

Elrond left the room after telling me to go to have a nap because I looked tired. I lay on the bed, looking up at the ceiling and wondered what Círdan would say when he came back to our rooms; knowing that there would be an argument. I felt so sad in spite of the good news. It seemed that Círdan and I could only get along for short periods of time and then we would be at each others’ throats again. He is my soul mate and I love him, so I wonder why we let this destructiveness into our lives? It is hurting both of us and it has to stop.

 

All the musings made me weary. I did not remember falling asleep.

 

“Meleth, I am so sorry,” Círdan said as he kissed my lips. “Please forgive me?” I opened my eyes and his face was above mine, which made me jump. He looked concerned.

 

I was momentarily confused as he was not shouting at me. “What?” I asked, slightly bewildered.

 

“Elrond has told me what the problem is and what we should do about it.” Círdan had a worried look on his face. “Are you all right?”

 

“You are not shouting at me,” I said as I rubbed my eyes.

 

“We are not to argue anymore, Meleth. It is too upsetting for you.” He put his arms around me and kissed my cheek. “Elrond says it makes your muscles tense up and upsets little Ereodan. We must avoid anything that causes it to do that.”

 

“He said that we could have sex,” I replied, brightening up at the prospect.

 

“Yes he did,” Círdan said. “Now, Cireolas is with Elrohir; so what do you suppose we should do this afternoon?”

 

“Well no bloody sleeping that is for sure.” I laughed as I pulled my love down on top of me.

 

Suddenly everything seems much brighter!

 

 

**Part 60 – Saving Ereolas**

 

We made love all afternoon; the past cares of the day forgotten. Dinner was a much happier experience, but by the time we had finished I had a slight bellyache. I put it down to Elrond poking and prodding me and so I thought no more of it. When we arrived back at our rooms, I told Círdan that I was aching inside. He filled a hot water bottle and told me to get into bed. Cireolas fell asleep quickly in his cot, he was very tired anyway, and then my husband joined me in the bed. 

 

“It is Yule Eve tomorrow, my sweet one.” Círdan put his arms around me and snuggled up behind me, my back against his chest. “You are shaking.”

 

“This pain is getting worse,” I said through gritted teeth. It really was quite bad.

 

Círdan left our bed and dressed hurriedly. “I will be back soon,” he said before running out of the room.

 

By the time Círdan arrived back with Elrond in tow, my knees were drawn up to chest level and I was in agony. I could hardly talk with the pain. The temptation to groan or howl was strong, but Cireolas would awake and be frightened. I held myself and willed with every fibre of my being not to give in, besides I had already used my elleth type feelings once today and was not inclined to do so further.

 

“Why am I going through all this?” I gasped when Elrond told me to put my knees down. 

 

Círdan held my legs against the mattress as every touch from Elrond made me flinch. I shook violently and thought I would vomit. “You cannot go on like this,” Elrond said. With a determined look in his eyes, he told my husband to pick me up and take me to the healing rooms.

 

We arrived and I was laid on a treatment bed. I remember my eyes not focussing properly and I was wet with sweat and freezing cold. There were periods of blackness and awareness, but there were only brief flashes of comprehensive thought, lucidity or perception. I do not remember Elrond giving me anything for the pain, but according to Saelir, who was with me as I came to, he had given me several doses of medicine before it had started to work.

 

Círdan sat beside me, holding my hand and telling me to fight whatever was ailing me because he could not bear to lose me again. “There is a dwarf in the market,” I replied in my confusion. “He wants you to give him some pastries. It is a very important carrot.” In a moment of awareness I asked, “Where is Cireolas? He is not alone is he?” My breathing was harsh and rapid. The thumping beat of my heart shook through my being and nothing made sense anymore. 

 

“I think we should open up Ereolas and see what is causing him to be so ill. I fear for his life otherwise,” Elrond said to Círdan, who agreed immediately. I was not in any state to make sense of what they said, as I was too far gone; Círdan informed me afterwards.

 

Elrond held the small glass of blue liquid to my lips and told me that I would wake up soon feeling better. Even I saw the bright light appear and the command to stop, although I did not realise the significance of it in my confusion.

 

According to Círdan, Manwë and Nienna appeared. 

 

“You will not kill his babies,” Manwë commanded.

 

“Babies?” Elrond queried. “He is only having one, and he is so ill that he is dying. I am about to operate in the hope that I might be able to save his life.”

 

“Ereolas is not dying,” Manwë said irritably. “He is merely growing another baby. He is having three months growth in an evening, so the new baby can catch up with little Gil-Galad and become his playmate. Poor thing, he is so bored that he is becoming depressed. Really, if Ereolas was a better parent he would know how to keep his unborn baby amused.” He flicked a particle of light away from his sleeve. “I will not have Gil-Galad upset; he is a favourite of mine.”

 

“Then why did you not inform Ereolas?” Elrond asked. “It would have been a simple courtesy, after all.”

 

“I do not need to tell him. That is why.” Manwë walked over to me and I looked at him as he put his hand on my forehead. “You will come back to lucidity for as long as it takes me to explain this,” he said.

 

I threw up, and I am pleased to say that some of it hit the sides of the bowl and splashed on to his robe. “I am sorry,” I said. He is such a crazy bastard that he would kill for less. 

 

“I should crush you,” he hissed. 

 

“Manwë,” Nienna intervened. “It was an accident.” She stood on my other side. When I looked at her I felt great peace, but when I shifted my gaze to Manwë I felt nothing but fear.

 

“I forgive you,” he smiled maliciously. Leaning forward, so that his face was level with mine, he said, “You feel sick and in pain most of the time, don’t you?” I nodded. “No sickness remedy works for long does it?” I nodded again. “Do you know why?” I nodded. “It is your punishment for killing your body and forcing us to give you your old one.” He hissed the last part and I felt his barely contained anger washing over me.

 

“I would have died any way if I had not killed my old body. Was your intention for me to die and leave two elflings without their ada?” I asked; a tear ran out of the corner of my eye and into my hair.

 

“Your elflings would not have missed you,” Manwë said cruelly. You can tell he is related to Melkor. “What they do not know, they do not grieve for.”

 

“I would grieve for him!”Círdan shouted in his anger. “I did not wait all these years, and plead with you every single night for over a thousand years, to have my soul mate returned for one brief moment only. This feels like a betrayal of the worst kind and I thought the Valar were above that.”

 

“He broke nearly every bone in your face; how can you love him?” Manwë sneered.

 

“He did it because he felt sick and ill, which we now know is of your doing. He was at his wits end and I pushed him,” Círdan thundered with rage. His face was livid and his body stood tense and ready. “I love Ereolas more than I love myself Our elfling adores his ada. We would both grieve his loss.”

 

“Let us calm down,” Nienna said, before telling Manwë that he made certain promises to me, so that I would agree to be reborn again. Being punished for killing myself and being re-embodied was not in the agreement, nor was having twins.

 

“Oropher was meant to be reborn in Valinor and rule his kingdom there,” Manwë snapped. “You know this. He has upset everything.”

 

“We have to work with what we have got. Would Oropher really make a good ruler in Valinor when every fibre of his being resented being there? He would be nothing but trouble.” Nienna stroked my forehead and I felt sleepy again. “You knew this when you asked him to be reborn, so why are you bringing it up again?” 

 

“He thwarted our plans…” Manwë started.

 

“They are delayed; that is all. At no point was any of this discussed with Ereolas.” Nienna continued stroking my head and I heard her saying as if from a distance. “He has feelings too and deserves better.”

 

I did not hear anymore, but according to Círdan an argument of major proportions raged between Manwë and Nienna. Námo appeared and threatened to take the babies and me if they could not make my quality of life better. Apparently, he was most vociferous when arguing in my favour. He must remember me following him around in the Halls and asking constantly when I could be reborn.

 

The details were agreed. I would have two more elflings and go to Valinor when the time for the elves ended. There would be no more morning sickness, depression or unexplained pain. Manwë agreed that I would wake up when the growing of the new baby had caught up with the one already insitu. Círdan informed me of all of this the next morning when I awoke, refreshed and happy. The aches were gone, as were the pains that I had become used to in my belly, although they were not nearly as bad as the ones the previous evening. Círdan was slightly miffed that I had not told him about them but I was brought up not to complain about pain, so I did not. Anyway, he would have only fussed further.

 

I did not feel sick, depressed or unhappy; in fact, I felt quite joyful. “Círdan, I feel great.” I laughed, and then I jumped on top of him and gave him the biggest sloppy kiss going.

 

He put his arms around me and grinned, “Happy Yule Eve, Melethen.” I gave him another kiss and licked his neck, causing him to giggle as he always does when I do that.

 

When we settled down, he told me the twins should have a nanny. I can live with that because I would have decided that as well. However, we would spend as much time with our babies as we do with Cireolas. The nanny can do the boring stuff, such as changing their nappies and taking them for clothing fittings!

 

My sweet little ion woke up. I could not wait to see him. We would have lots more fun together now that I am better and that is how it should be. My little boy sat up in his cot. He picked up 'Erestor teddy’; he named it after his favourite grand ada, and put his free arm up to me.

 

“Ada, pick me up. I am a prince. Pick me up now.” his thumb went back into his mouth.

 

Nothing changes really!

 

I am so happy that I danced around the room with my giggling ion. Then we all sat on the bed and blew raspberries at each other.

 

A tiny sound came from my belly. 

 

“I want to sing this song.”

 

“No, you sang it last time, it is my turn.”

 

“I will kick you…”

 

Ah! My smile widened. I am to have an iell too. It seems there is a little girl giving Ereodan what for. Well he wanted company. 

 

Poor baby!


	23. Part 61 – Círdan’s Entry, part one.  Part 62 - The meaning of Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cirdan writes an entry at the request of Ereolas. He reveals the truth about his first set of parents and the events of his death when Oropher.

**Part 61 – Círdan’s Entry, part one.**

 

Círdan’s POV

 

My only one, my husband, my Ereolas, you have asked me to write an entry in your journal and it can be about anything I like. Now that you have asked me to write an entry I am at a loss of what to put down. Is that not always the way?

 

Perhaps I should start at the beginning; it is pointless to do otherwise. Let this be an entry about our history and my love for you; above all this is worth recording.

 

After thousands of years of marriage, your nana and ada gave birth to their third elfling whom the Valar named Oropher. You always thought that you were their only one, but there were two before you. There is a lot they withheld from you; their past was a land strewn with tragedy in which they were loathe to take a single step.

 

Your ada was the ruler of a tribe in the forest and I ruled my people beside the sea in the land of Cuiviénen, where we awoke. I know that your parents told you they were once elflings but this was not true. Their minds were so affected that they actually believed they had once been elflings. It was sad to see their degeneration but, in spite of everything, they carried on and ruled their realm with much success. I must also confess that the ring I gave you when we first met was not my nana’s. You have probably realised by now that she never existed. The ring was one that I was given by my lover before he died; he told me to keep it for the one I would love forever and so I gave it to you. I apologise for the deception, but I feared you would not have worn it if you knew its true source. Sweet Meleth, I will take any punishment you devise for this deception and enjoy it wholeheartedly. Make it imaginative, eh?

 

All feared your nana, who ruled her own tribe of ellith near the mountains. None of the elves knew exactly where her tribe was situated. Your nana’s tribe had no use for ellon, except when wishing to reproduce. There were tales of elves being called by their siren song and wandering away from the safety of their villages into the mountains. Their reappearance would be just as sudden and often a few weeks later. None could tell the way to the tribe’s whereabouts or what had happened when they had been there. It was as though they had been in an enchantment and did not wake from it until their return to the village. Occasionally one would not come back. There was fearful talk of cannibalism, which over time became regarded as fact, although there was no actual evidence of such practice. It was easier to believe this scurrilous rumour than to acknowledge the presence of the dark being who hung like a spectre over our survival and existence. Many were the long years that we fought him and even now we are watchful and prepare for war with the one who would carry on his legacy.

 

Occasionally, your nana’s warriors would ride into a village and leave a male baby with the midwife. They had no use for boys. On the way back, they would steal sheep as a supposed payment for giving the village a future warrior. Their status was legendary and they struck terror into the hearts of the villagers, who concealed themselves whenever there was a visit. Make no mistake, Meleth, your nana’s tribe were kinslayers and would not hesitate to kill their fellow elf if they met resistance.

 

This went on for many years. All societies have a breaking point and when your ada, Rárávëa, narrowly escaped being taken, he decided to call a meeting of the surrounding villages. It was decided to capture the ellith the next time they rode in. The warriors of the village, and all the lands around, spent their days training and at night they lay in wait. 

 

This went on for several months. The fearsome ellith rode abroad only during the time of sleep. They would whoop and scream like balrogs and dragons on the descent from the mountain caves where they lived, striking fear into the hearts of all decent elves. When they required a male for reproduction the song was sweet and alluring, as if blessed with the voice of a Vala. None could resist the sweet enchantment and neither could your ada. It was only because he tripped on a rock, in his haste to join them, and hit his head against a tree, knocking him out cold, that he was able to escape being taken.

 

Your nana led the way, howling and screaming their battle song, as was their way. They carried small drums to accentuate the noise and it was a terrifying sound indeed. They rode into the village, armed and dangerous, looking around imperiously as though nothing could defeat them. One of their numbers knocked on the midwife’s door and handed her a small baby when the door opened. It was then that the battle started. The warriors surrounded the ellith warriors and we outnumbered them five to one, unfavourable odds for us when considering how skilled in battle they were.

 

The battle was long and hard. They would die before being captured. To our regret, we had to kill most of them just to win the battle. We lost many of our finest warriors that day but our loss was not as terrible as theirs was. It was not lost on us that some of the warriors may have killed their own nanas. 

 

Órëlaurëa, your eventual nana, was captured and held prisoner. The council of the villages put her and the surviving members of the tribe on trial. They were found guilty of many charges, including murder and robbery. Órëlaurëa spoke eloquently in her defence, and even though she was judged guilty she won the hearts of all. 

 

We elves are a fickle lot and decided not to execute her, as she deserved, mainly because she was so erudite and extraordinarily beautiful. She exuded power and nobility, all fell for her charms. It was decided that your ada should marry her and that she should be a good wife and be publically whipped for any transgression. She merely smiled and said that being whipped was character building. I think that it was then that your ada fell in love with her. She was an elleth after his own heart.

 

Your nana did not give in easily though; she insisted that we kill her immediately, knowing that your ada would not hear of it. He said that he would enjoy her humiliation, not realising that he was playing straight into her hands. He wedded her the afternoon of the judgement. We were a young race then, and innocent, but even then we were aware of what our immortality meant. Oromë told your nana that the course of her future was irrevocably altered and that she should make the best of it. She was still a ruler, even if it meant sharing power. Your nana was very gracious and replied that she would honour the Valar in their wishes. This was not good enough for your ada, who did not trust her in the slightest, although I would say that in spite of her past she was an honourable elleth. Make no mistake about this my only one. Your ada loved your nana with all his heart but he feared that she would turn to her old ways. The solution was to make her with child and with the greatest of haste.

 

Just over a year later, Órëlaurëa gave birth to a boy. In spite of the ways of her tribe, she secretly rejoiced that she would be able to keep her beautiful baby and not have to give him up. A year later she had a girl, whom she loved equally. Their marriage was forced and yet it became a love match very quickly because the Valar made them soul mates and perpetually in love, to ensure that peace would reign between them forever. Lord Manwë pronounced them King and Queen of Arda and for a short time they were the rulers of all elves. 

 

Nothing lasts forever and your ada was far sighted enough to realise that he could only be the king of his tribe, regardless of the title the Valar had given to him and his wife. Your parents’ led their tribe away in search of new lands, as I did mine. When the elves fought against Melkor we saw one another again. By this time, your ada was the king of an immense number of elves and your mother a great queen. They were justly proud of their offspring, who were both accomplished warriors. Your sister, Lúnalúlë, was especially awesome and fought harder and with more effect than any of the male warriors who fought alongside her. It was no surprise that the enemy targeted her. All heard your nana’s screams of horror as she saw her iell cut down in front of her. They hacked off her sword arm as the life drained from her. Órëlaurëa threw herself across the body of her dying iell and fought off the enemy that would seek to take her body. They would have impaled her on a stake and suspended her body high up to dishearten our side. Your nana would not allow that to happen. 

 

Your brother took your sister’s body in his arms and ran to the far lines with her. Your nana, in a fit of murderous rage, cut down all about her. If only Quentatuilë had stayed and not done what was right. While returning to the front line, a stray arrow thrust through the slit in his helmet, piercing his eye and driving deep into his brain. It is said that he rolled around in agony for several minutes before your ada came upon him. Seeing that his son was dying, Rárávëa slit the vein in his throat to hasten his departure. He was found still holding your brother’s dead body after the battle and his grief knew no bounds. It was only because his wife was hysterical that he agreed to let him go and sought to comfort her instead. 

 

We won the battle but lost so much in doing so. There was not one among us who did not lose someone they loved. My own lover was in the toll of bodies recovered at the end of the day. He was barely alive. I stayed with him as his life ebbed away. By the morning, he had departed with Lord Námo to make the journey to the Halls. I did not have the courage to end his life as your ada did with your brother, Quentatuilë. How much that cost Rárávëa I have no idea, but neither of your parents were the same again. 

 

You joke that your parents were as mad as March hares but now you know why. No parent should see their children die.

 

 

 

**Part 62 - The meaning of Time**

 

 

Círdan’s POV

 

My dearest Ereolas, by the time you were born your parents had taken their subjects on the long journey via Doriath, and were settled in Amon Lanc in the Great Greenwood Forest. I had been in Mithlond for a very long time, and when you were born I was invited to your naming ceremony. Galadriel sat beside me and told me that you would be very special in my life. It did not occur to me that she meant I would be your soul mate. I thought my chance for love had diminished long ago. You know how obtuse she can be sometimes, so I did not think to question further.

 

Your nana and ada held you up to the stars in the night sky for the blessing of the Valar, who called you Oropher. You rose into the air and we could hear you laughing as they played with you. I remember Elbereth putting one of the stars from her veil upon your brow and saying that of all the elves you were their most beloved. In certain lights, I can see that star still. Whenever I look at our little ion, Cireolas, I see you when you were a baby. He is the most beautiful elfling, as you were, my only one. Your greatest gift to me was your heart and our ion is the second greatest gift; his birth has sealed our love forever.

 

After that, I saw you very rarely until your coronation. On an official visit to your parents, I watched you playing with some elflings outside the window of the meeting room. You shouted, “Give me the ball. I am a prince. Give me the ball.” Happily, the other elflings ignored you. You were not deterred and ran after it anyway. I was impressed to see that you did not sulk or throw a tantrum; had you been Cireolas it would have been your first option. Both of your parents indulged you heavily. They adored you and were extremely proud to have you as their ion. Even when you reached the age of bratty behaviour, they would smile indulgently and excuse every infraction. It is a wonder that you did not turn out mad as well. 

 

It was with the greatest of amusement that we received the missive from your parents announcing your new title: His Most Gracious and Supreme Highness, Prince Oropher the Magnificent, Illustrious and Shining Star of all Arda. Ereinion sent me a letter in which the ink was smudged; he said it was due to his tears of laughter. He said your title was somewhat of a mouthful and wondered if you were called it every day or only when being announced. Out of pure mischief he wrote and asked your ada, who replied that you were called it all the time whenever anyone addressed you. There was a flurry of witty letters between all the realms in which we all imagined situations where the use of your name might lead you to harm or cause extreme amusement. For example, Gil-Galad wrote that if a servant had to say your full title when warning you about a charging oliphaunt, then he might as well not say a thing as you would be crushed to death before it could all be said.

 

I attended your coronation and saw you in your youthful glory with your young wife who seemed to hang on your every word. For a fleeting moment, when I saw you, I felt the strong attraction of fëar and wondered if you were my soul mate, but your eyes seemed to shine for Alatáriël alone, and so I knew I must be mistaken. However, you joined the ranks of the letter-writing rulers and regularly corresponded with myself among others. Because of these letters, I felt as though I knew you well. When we met on an official visit, hundreds of years after your coronation, your wife was away holidaying with her parents. For many years she had lived in a separate apartment with her maid, who was her soul mate. You were lonely and so was I. 

 

I rode into the courtyard of the castle at Amon Lanc and saw at the head of the line the most beautiful elf in Eru’s creation. I could not stop looking at your loveliness and our eyes saw only each other, as if we were welded into some kind of enchantment. I hurt you because I refused your interest in me. It was stupid of me to deny our hearts of what we both longed for, and so I walked to your rooms and made love to you. I remember we spent quite a lot of the time in bed during that visit; it is a place where I would willingly spend the rest of my life so long as you were there.

 

Love for us has never been smooth, has it my only one? We often fought in the same battles and visited when we could, but it seemed that any period of time spent solely in each other’s company resulted in rows of epic proportions. During our last disagreement, before your death, I was handed a note from Erestor cancelling the battle for two hours. In the heat of the argument, I forgot to give it to you and you died that very day. You went out too early and faced an enemy that vastly outnumbered your army. Your ion, Thranduil, found your headless body. I wish I had read the note, but as it was for you I did not.

 

Thranduil asked me many years later if I thought that Námo had taken you before the final blows. Your limbs were severed and your chest was smashed to a pulp. Your insides hung out of a huge open wound across your belly that cut through to your spine and only a portion of your face remained attached. A crushed eye lay beside it. A dead uruk-hai over the other side of the battlefield held the remaining portion of your head in his hand. Sauron had swung it by the pigtail and kicked it across the battlefield. Thranduil swore that when he found your head the remaining eye blinked once before staying open forever. Saelir disputed Thranduil’s claim, saying that movement would have been impossible because you had been decapitated. I wonder if your eye blinked because the Valar were giving Thranduil a signal that you were saying farewell. I doubt we will ever know.

 

The appearance of your final remains haunted Thranduil for a long time afterwards. Your demise was never far away from his thoughts. You once told me that Námo promised he would take you before the final blows and I informed Thranduil of this. He found my words a source of great comfort and needed to believe them, so he could put his nightmares to rest. He showed great courage. In spite of his loss, he made sure that all the warriors’ families were financially secure and spent a large amount of the kingdom’s wealth in doing so. He said you would have done the same and he was following your example. He regretted that he could not do more.

 

Many years later, I worked up the courage to show him the note that I had not given to you. I did so because Erestor had written all sorts of lies about you in the official chronicles and had attacked your integrity as a leader. On the other hand, he did not know that you never saw the note. Thranduil was ever gracious and told me that you would have died that day anyway, as your death was foretold. He thought that maybe the Valar stopped me from giving the note to you. It was a great comfort that he felt like that. He told me that he knew you would be reborn and that we would meet you again one day. I cannot even begin to tell you the joy I felt at that simple statement.

 

I told Thranduil how upset the official chronicles had made me. He replied that he did not fancy telling Erestor that he had made a mistake and invited me to tell him instead. Neither of us felt like correcting the mercenary, psychopathic bastard that he was back then. Thranduil said that it did not matter anyway, as you would not have cared less and would be of the opinion that it was only Erestor and he was being an arse.

 

It was a long time before I saw you again. Time does not heal my lovely one; it merely fills our mind with newer things so that we devote less time to the events that occurred before. It was in my dreamtime that the rawness and overwhelming grief came back to haunt, and even though you are now reborn it sometimes still affects me. Those are the periods, when we are asleep, that I hold you that little bit tighter in my arms and I whisper that I love you. Because that, my only one, comes from the heart and will always be true.


	24. Part 63 - Círdan’s Conclusion.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Círdan writes the last part of his entry in Ereolas' journal.

**Part 63 - Círdan’s Conclusion.**

 

 

It was one thousand, four hundred years before I saw you again. Every night you were away from my life I begged the Valar for your return. A lock of your hair and a small painting of you remained close to my heart at all times. As a commemoration of your bravery, I had the Hall of Thrones remodelled and the ceiling painted in a mural showing the fallen Elven heroes rising up to be taken by the Valar. You were painted as touching the hand of Námo himself. Lord Eru’s light shone upon your face and over the dead warriors who followed in your wake. I had you painted as you were in life during a time of peace, fresh and supremely beautiful, not tired and weary as the battled hardened always are. It was how I needed to remember you.

 

During the time you were away from me, I had not taken a single lover. No one measured up to your standard and so I refused the offers of solace and kept to myself. In truth, we needed the long period of time away for change to happen. 

 

My relationship with Erestor changed to the diametric opposite of what it was before. Gil-Galad’s death and Elrond’s rejection left him alone and in a state of self-reflection. He saw himself for what he was and sought contact with me so that we could rebuild our relationship. At first, I did not trust him, but I could not deny that he was trying very hard. In the end, we agreed to create a peace between us and he told me about some of the dreadful things he had done and of his regret. I believe he was truly lonely and knew that much of the cause was directly attributable to his own behaviour. I told him that I could have been a better guardian when he was younger, and I knew that I had been unfair and unfeeling towards him when he was a small elfling when living in my court. He told me that all he had ever wanted as an elfling was for someone to hug him and tell him that they cared for him. He did not even require being told that he was loved; just knowing that someone was there for him and looked upon him with a favourable eye would have been enough. I did not even give him that. I hugged him and asked his forgiveness, which he gave. He looked broken and tired, but he had also found a peace that was lacking before.

 

Elrond offered Erestor a place in Imladris and he gradually recovered from his unhappiness and became the elf you see today. He truly is a great elf and the best ada and husband that anyone could have, apart from you and me, my only one! 

 

Imagine my shock when Erestor and Legolas’ tiny baby called me Muffy, your pet nickname for me. I had dared to hope that one day we would meet again and so we did, but I had not expected you to be the elfling of Thranduil’s ion, Legolas. 

 

The Valar played a cruel trick on you when you were reborn. They gave you a body that was weak and vulnerable. Whenever you hurt yourself, it would take weeks for you to get better. You caught colds and had to wrap up warm in the winter. When Mel was able to use his powers properly, he made your bed permanently warm so that you would not freeze; I believe he also did the same with your winter clothing. When we married, I had to be careful with you, and to be honest, I think I treated you like an elfling. You took it and hardly ever complained or argued with me. You just accepted that I was taking care of you. I would like to say that we were happy though, and I believe this was true in spite of everything. 

 

It was a complete surprise when you became pregnant with Cireolas. Everything went well until you gave birth and the healers allowed you to become infected. I will never forgive them for the torment they put you through and it is most fortunate for them that they chose to sail. I could not forgive them and I never will.

 

If Elrond had not been in attendance, I am convinced that you would have died. I adore the very ground you walk upon Meleth, and I know that I would die too if that happened. The following month was rough and you could only take so much. Your suicide tore my heart in two, even though the Valar remade you. I was overjoyed to see you in your Oropher form, but so upset that you had to die in order to achieve the existence that all the rest of us take for granted. You did not take kindly to me treating you the way I had always done and was very firm in the matter. We have had our arguments and we both know now how to proceed so that we do not become hurt again. I am sorry, Meleth, if I caused you pain and was inconsiderate of your needs. I know that when you punched me in the face you were not aware of the extent of your new strength. I pushed you and pushed you and demanded that you act in a certain way and fulfil your duties as Lord of the Realm, even though you had morning sickness and felt dreadfully ill. Your striking of me was a cry of desperation and who could blame you. I have examined my behaviour and do not wish to ever argue with you again. I adore you and I do not want us to be unhappy.

 

My love when it comes to you I panic. When I heard that little Ereodan was too small, I wanted to take over again and direct you in how to relax and take care of yourself. I should trust you to know what is right and good for your own health and that of our baby. All I can do is ask your forgiveness if I become overbearing again. Tell me that I am becoming so and I will stop. I promise you that. It seems that I do more harm than good and yet I am always well intentioned.

 

I feel that we have turned a corner in our relationship and I am going to do everything I can to support you instead of trying to direct you. I realise that I have not fully understood your needs and all I can say in my defence is that I am an old elf and this is all new to me. However, I am delighted to have you in your old form and feel it is a miracle that I have an elfling after so long. I never imagined in all my long life that I would be so fortunate. I feel positively showered with blessings that I am to have two more elflings. For their sake we will have the peace that we have long sought. Although I would caution against complete peace as I particularly enjoy our love making when we have been angry at each other, and I know that you do too. Do you remember when you cut my hair off in a fit of anger? It was worth it for what we had afterwards. Although, I could do without having my face repaired again! When Manwë appeared the other night and treated you most cruelly, I realised that the only one who can defend you is me. Your parents are not with us all the time, so I am the only one who can truly look out for your needs. It is the same for me; we have each other and that is all we have. We are luckier than most.

 

Ereolas, I adore you. I am Ithil and you are Anor shining your light upon me, illuminating my life and my being. I am nothing without you. All that is worthwhile comes from you and gives reason to my existence. I am old, and I was weary of this immortality, but like a fresh breeze you invigorated my fëa and set me afire once again. I love you and will always defend you and what you consider is right. I am as one with you. We are together and neither of us can be anything without the other.

 

You are my heart and my life. You are the meaning for my being. I love you.


	25. Part 64 – The Meaning of Position. Part 65 – Yuletide Morning. Part 66 – Baby Talk.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is Yuletide morning. Ereolas reminisces back to when he was Oropher and little Thranduil gave him a box of treasures. Will Father Yule give Cireolas a lump of coal because he has been naughty? Ereolas and Círdan suspect that they might know who their unborn iell is.

**Part 64 – The Meaning of Position**

 

I am overwhelmed at the wonderfully loving entry Círdan wrote in my journal. I quote, “I am Ithil and you are Anor shining your light upon me, illuminating my life and my being.” How eloquent he is when professing his love for me. He can drink my milk any time he likes!

 

As much as Círdan adores me, I adore him. I cannot think of a day spent away from him without the most extreme misery taking hold of my being. We argue like cat and dog and that is part of our life, although I am the first to admit that we need to curb our tempers, or else one of us is going to get seriously hurt. Oops – that has already happened. Twice. We are silly elves; we seem to be unable to learn from our mistakes! We can but try.

 

Today is Yule morning. The snow is falling and it is not yet light outside. The white flakes have nearly obscured the window pane. This part of Thranduil’s kingdom does not normally enjoy snow while the surrounding areas do, so we are either having an unusually foul winter or we are lucky. The air is still and the room is cold. Cireolas is wrapped up and wearing a woolly hat and knitted pyjamas with little feet in. He has several blankets around him and is fast asleep. Círdan is lying on his back, eyes shut and with a faint smile on his face. Leaning over, taking care to make sure the blankets stay around my shoulders, I kissed his lips and wished him a happy Yule. 

 

“Happy Yule, Melethen,” he smiled, eyes still shut. “Have you got hundreds of presents for me?”

 

“Would you like your first present now?” I asked, sounding incredibly sexy. “Cireolas is fast asleep.”

 

“We have to be very quiet,” Círdan replied, his eyes betraying his lust.

 

It was over in a flash. We were so scared that Cireolas would wake up that we hurried ourselves and finished within minutes. It was the quickest and most noiseless quickie I have ever had, but it was with my love and so it was still good. The second we finished Cireolas started to stir; shortly after he began to cry.

 

I leapt out of bed and picked him up. “Shush, sweet one.” I said in a soft voice as I cuddled him. “There, there. No more crying. Ada has you. Tell Ada what is the matter.” I wiped his tears away and stroked his head. “Would you like a drink?”

 

“Ada,” he cried and the tears flowed again. 

 

“It is Yuletide morning and we have lots of presents for you.” I jiggled him up and down against my chest. “Shall we get into bed with Ada Círdan?”

 

Cireolas nodded through his tears and so we climbed into bed. I gave our little baby to my dear husband and he stroked his head while uttering soothing noises. Eventually Cireolas calmed down. “Why were you crying, my favourite little ion?” Círdan asked as he kissed his cheek.

 

“Teddy had a nightmare,” Cireolas said and his lip started to wibble. Círdan put Cireolas’ head against his chest and held it there so that he could not see him laughing. I climbed out of bed, a wide grin on my face, hoping that I would not betray that I wanted to laugh. I took the teddy from the cot and I climbed back into bed.

 

“Ada Ereolas has rescued Teddy,” Círdan said with a wide grin and handed him the toy.

 

“Teddy was screaming because a big dog was chasing him and stole his ice cream,” Cireolas informed us as we tried to keep straight faces. “I told it to stop, as I am a prince, and it would not.”

 

“We do not get everything we want because we are a prince, little one,” Círdan grinned.

 

“Unca Mel said I can have anything I want because I am a prince,” Cireolas indignantly informed Círdan. 

 

“I do not think you should listen to Uncle Mel. He is very naughty saying things like that,” Círdan replied. “We will have to have a word with him about leading impressionable little elflings astray.”

 

“Well Ada, you would not know because you have never been a prince. You are only a Lord,” Cireolas said as though explaining something to a village idiot.

 

“Your Ada is not a mere Lord,” I informed him. “He is a ‘mighty’ Lord and that makes the difference. If you ask Grand Ada Thranduil he will tell you that Círdan is the highest Lord there is.”

 

“Still not a prince is it?” Cireolas beamed cheekily; he could now that Teddy was safe. 

 

“I was born a prince and yet I call myself a Lord.” I said, my face not amused. “Why do you suppose that is?”

 

“Because you got married to Ada Círdan and he makes you?” Cireolas asked innocently.

 

“No,” I was most irritated by this time but did not show it. “Because the title does not matter except to the simple minded.” I decided to nip it in the bud and carry on with the day. “It is Yuletide today, did you remember?”

 

“Yes!” Cireolas looked excited. “I am a prince, give me presents.”

 

Valar give me strength! 

 

 

 

**Part 65 – Yuletide Morning**

 

We all went to Thranduil’s rooms for our Yuletide presents. Elrond and Celebrían had left the day before and so it was family and the twins only. Thranduil and Merilnis sat by the decorated tree, both wearing their Yuletide crowns, which were made of green leaves and berries with hanging gold chains interwoven through the twig base. Círdan and I wore our ordinary circlets and my Adas did so as well. The twins did not wear anything on their head, pronouncing it ‘so last century’ to do so, while Mel and Glorfindel each wore a simple circlet of golden flowers. 

 

“Why can’t I have a circlet?” Cireolas asked. “I am a prince, I should have a circlet.”

 

“Because you are a baby,” Círdan replied and nipped the potential argument in the bud by pointing to the presents. 

 

Cireolas does have a circlet, but he is so up his own arse about being a prince that we are not going to reinforce his behaviour by letting him wear it. I did not think that one day of wearing a circlet would hurt but Círdan was quite firm on the matter. 

 

“The first present is for Cireolas,” Thranduil said and handed the present to him. 

 

“What am I supposed to do with it?” My sweet little twit asked and handed it to me.

 

“You take the paper off and see what is inside.” I replied and tore a small piece of the corner to give him a start. He sat fascinated as a large box was revealed.

 

“What is it?” he asked, big blue eyes round and expectant. I opened the box in front of him and there was his baby dagger. All elflings wear them so that they become used to weapons. The blade is blunt and there is only a rounded tip. For extra safety, a button on the scabbard has to be pressed to release the blade; most elflings work that one out very quickly. “Look, it is a dagger.” Cireolas looked at his uncle Mel who sat grinning at him. “I can kill big spiders with it.” His little arms beat up and down with excitement as I fastened it around his waist.

 

“That was from me and Ada,” I said. 

 

“Thank you, Adas,” Cireolas beamed at Círdan and then me.

 

“He is adorable,” Merilnis said, who thinks only good about anyone. I am not saying it is a character flaw but…

 

“This is for my Ada, now that he has come back,” Thranduil said as he handed a large flat present to me. He looked a little shy. I tore the paper away and there was a gold box carved with scenes from my life when Oropher. Inside was my old crown from when I was king. Not the everyday crown, but the ceremonial one made of mithril and studded with over one and a half thousand diamonds. At the centre sat a huge teardrop diamond, two inches in width and three inches in length, which was surrounded by lesser large diamonds that gradually tailed out to smaller ones at the side and back. It was a most impressive circlet with decorative mithril filigree holding the diamonds in place. “I found it in the safe and thought that now you are with us again…” Thranduil looked down, a blush on his cheeks. I went over to him and gave him the greatest of hugs.

 

“Thank you so much,” I said. “No one could receive a nicer present.”

 

I put the crown back in the box and Cireolas moaned that I now had two crowns and it was not fair. Círdan told him to shut up.

 

We continued to open our presents, which are too many to list here, but some of the highlights were: two new jewelled ceremonial daggers that Thranduil had made for the twins; a pair of sapphire kitty ears from Erestor to Legolas, which was a joke present and caused much laughter; a hand carved catapult from Cireolas to his Uncle Mel, which he loved; and a Hello Vampire practical joke kit that Mel bought for Círdan. A strange present for one so old but he liked it.

 

After the present opening we all shared some mulled wine. I let Cireolas have a sip of mine and he screwed his face up and said it was nasty. As I drank I thought back to a Yule an age ago, when my ten-year-old elfling ran into my room with a present that he had tried to wrap himself. He climbed into bed with me and told me that it was Yuletide day.

 

“Ada,” he announced excitedly. “I have a box of treasures here for you.” I kissed him, sat him on my lap and undid the wrapping. “I made the present myself, except for the box which Galion and I bought in the market.”

 

He was bouncing with joy and anticipation as I opened it. Inside was an assortment of things that would be precious to a ten-year-old elfling and to an adult who inspected further. “Look at this precious stone,” he said excitedly. “If you hold it up to the light it has a small insect in the middle.” It was a large piece of amber and very impressive. “Look at this feather. Look at the colours.” The feather was made of solid gold and had tinted filaments that moved around a central column. On the end was a mithril nib. “Look at this dead scorpion,” Thranduil said, picking it up. It was a scorpion made of black diamonds and had a clasp underneath for fixing in the hair. 

 

“How wonderful,” I said and hugged him.

 

“There is more.” Thranduil giggled. “Look!”

 

“Thranduil? What is a poo doing in my present?” 

 

“It is not a real one,” my sweet little elfling said, laughing. “It is a fake one, so you can use it again and again to fool everyone.” He then went into paroxysms of laughter. “You can put it in Nana’s shoes.”

 

My sweet little ion then opened a secret compartment. “Here is a piece of precious string,” he said still laughing. It was a mithril wire used for cutting the throats of the enemy when sneaking up on them; my last one was lost and so this was a good replacement. Thranduil opened another secret compartment and inside was a filigree ring studded in places with tiny diamonds. A beautiful and delicate present. My small ion had no idea as to how precious it was or would become. 

 

I am told that when I died in battle my body was taken back to Mirkwood and given a warrior’s funeral. My body was dressed in full armour with a shield placed over the top. I floated on a wooden pyre to the middle of a lake and then Thranduil’s warriors lit their arrows and set it alight. This is the traditional farewell to a warrior who dies in action. The ring stayed on my finger, as Thranduil wanted me to have something to remember him by when I went to the Halls. I do not remember wearing it in the Halls, and so I suppose it was burnt along with my body on that day and is forever lost. It matters not. I have my family again and new additions on the way; I am luckier than most.

 

“Where did you find all this treasure?” I asked little Thranduil who was bouncing up and down with joy because I had put the ring on my little finger.

 

“Galion took me to the beach and we found it there. He said that he felt we might find some treasure and we did.” Thranduil stood up, on the bed, put his arm around my neck, and gave my cheek a big kiss. “I gave all my treasure to you, as you are the best ada in the world and I love you.”

 

How I loved that little elfling and how I love the great elf he became. I could not wish for a better ion. 

 

We decided to eat our breakfast in bed and Galion walked in to take our order. “I gave Ada all my treasure,” Thranduil announced proudly.

 

“Well so you should, young Thranduil,” Galion replied. “He will love it I am sure.”

 

“Thank you, Galion,” I said softly whilst Thranduil started to laugh again. “It was a lovely thing to do.”

 

He smiled and said that he was pleased to help.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Cireolas grabbed my attention as I was too far away in my reminiscences to take notice of what was going on in the room. He tugged on one of my braids to tell me that his new toy oliphaunt want to give me a kiss.

 

“Breakfast, Ereolas?” Thranduil said and I smiled. He roared with laughter, “Remember that box of treasure I gave you when I was young?”

 

Yes, Thranduil, I remember. I will always remember. How could I forget that most wonderful gift from my happy laughing ion?

 

 

**Part 66 – Baby Talk**

 

 

“It sounds like it might be Yuletide morning,” little Ereodan said inside my belly.

 

“I bet they haven’t bought us anything,” a female voice replied. We really must think of a name for her.

 

“They think of no one but themselves,” Ereodan said.

 

“You haven’t been born yet so how can we buy presents for you?” I asked after tapping on my belly to engage their attention.

 

“Excuses, excuses,” my unborn iell muttered. “No one takes responsibility for their own actions any more do they?”

 

“Too true,” Ereodan agreed.

 

“Just admit it you forgot,” the little girl voice sniped.

 

“I did not forget at all,” I replied with a slightly malicious smile on my face. “You are not born yet, therefore you are unable to unwrap or even hold your presents, so I made a conscious decision not to include you in the celebration.” I grinned at Círdan who was by now listening intently with his ear against my belly. “You are also going to miss some rather nice food.”

 

Círdan gave a small laugh as the tiny iell inside me told her brother that she was sure that they would be made to work for their pocket money when they were born, as I sounded incredibly mean. My sweet husband laughed and told them that Cireolas did not have to work and neither would they.

 

“I wouldn’t trust Círdan,” Ereodan wittered. “The only reason that Cireolas cannot work is because he is a thicky. He is not reborn at all.”

 

“How unfortunate for him,” my little iell giggled. “We can have him running around in circles. He will be like squidgy clay in our hands.”

 

“Círdan, are the woodcutter couple still interested in adopting our unborn babies?” I asked, shocked and amused somewhat by their horrid comments about my dear ion.

 

Círdan grinned, “I have told the couple that if we reconsider they have the first option. How perfect a boy and girl would be for them.”

 

“We will be good,” two twin voices protested at the same time. “Please don’t send us to live with the dreaded woodcutters.”

 

“Make sure you are, or else,” Círdan said firmly to my belly and drew back a bit so they did not suspect he might still be listening.

 

“He is really scary and he is always losing his temper,” Ereodan told his little sister.

 

“What is wrong with losing your temper?” my little iell demanded. I could just imagine her with her little baby fists planted firmly on her unborn hips.

 

“Everything, if you are not the one doing it,” Ereodan protested.

 

“I have a really bad temper,” his sister announced proudly. “I always get my own way as well.”

 

“I doubt you will this time,” Ereodan said thoughtfully. “Our Ada Ereolas comes from a long line of spankers and Círdan is just totally intolerant. He will probably lock us in the cells if we even swear at him.”

 

“You don’t know anything,” the singsong, baby girl voice taunted.

 

“I should know. I had to live with him on the Isle of Balar when I was young, and he doesn’t have a sense of humour at all. No wonder Erestor hated him.” Ereodan was becoming angry with his baby sibling.

 

“Who is Erestor?”

 

“Your Grand Ada.” Ereodan giggled. “He used to be my lover.”

 

“Don’t want to hear it!” the little girl piped up. “Having sex with your Grand Ada is sick.”

 

“He was not my Grand Ada then,” my unborn ion protested.

 

“We only have your word for that,” was the quick reply.

 

“Ada will you tell them to shut up,” Cireolas asked as he settled on my lap. “They are annoying me.”

 

“You shut up, brat!” My iell called through my belly. 

 

“You shut up. I am a Prince, so keep quiet,” Cireolas shouted and then snuggled his head against my chest. “Want milk, Ada.” I let him suckle and held him close in my arms; the twins were quiet for a few seconds. 

 

“Well we were both kings and that cancels out being a crappy prince doesn’t it?” the female spawn of Melkor raged, adding a stream of insults along the way. Happily, Cireolas understood only the first sentence as the rest was in Quenya. She had better not think that she can behave like that when she is born. My sweet little ion continued his suckling and gradually fell asleep.

 

Círdan looked sharply and knelt beside me. “You are female, how could you be a king? Surely you were a queen?”

 

“I was not a queen. I was a king. I was a high king.” 

 

Círdan shook his head and looked at me. “You have two high kings in your belly. I dread to think of the identity of the other one.” He grinned. “However he is now a little girl and will wear fluffy little dresses with bunnies on them.” I knew he said that as a deliberate attempt to bait our little iell, hoping to draw out who she was in her former life.

 

“I am not falling for that,” our iell said and laughed. “I am perfectly happy to wear dresses. Why do you think I left my wife?”

 

Círdan and I looked at each other with dread showing plainly on our faces. We thought we knew the identity of our little iell and wondered why the Valar had played yet another nasty trick on us. 

 

There is nothing we can do but bear it and see how it all turns out. I do not look forward to this birth at all.

 

o0o0o0o0o0o

 

Two little baby voices from inside me:

 

“Let us sing the song about how Finwë made his favourite archer wear an egg up his bottom when he played the harp.”

 

“No, I do not like that one. How about the one where Círdan was followed by a sex hungry badger and dared not come out of his castle for two years?”

 

“Is that true?”

 

“Of course it is.”

 

“Will it embarrass him?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Well, let’s sing it then!”


	26. Part 67 - Naughty Cireolas! Part 68 – The Hair Slide Mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cireolas is upset when told he might get a lump of coal for Yule because of his behaviour. Círdan loses his hair slide and Ereolas teaches his husband a lesson after he shouts at him.

**Part 67 - Naughty Cireolas!**

 

I thought my little unborn girl might be Finwë, because he had a bad temper according to the Elven Chronicles. Círdan, who knows about such things, is of the opinion that her personality is not the same. He is not convinced and neither am I now. My wonderful husband knows more than I do about these things and I trust his judgement implicitly. I suppose I will have to wait until I next see Elrond. He can wave Vilya over my belly while saying different names, and then we can see who it comes up with. It matters not, the spawn of Melkor are asleep inside me and so I am going to make the most of it.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

My sweet, beautiful ion has woken up and is being very quiet. He is sitting on my lap as I write and has just asked me to write ‘Cireolas’. There it is done. I am going to get no peace and so I will stop writing this journal and play with him and his new toys.

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

We went to dinner that evening and I made everyone of my relatives watch as Cireolas took his first steps. He only did two before falling flat on his bum, but I think he did very well. 

 

“Come and sit with me,” Mel called to Cireolas and sat him on his lap. He spoke softly in his ear. “We are going to have tomato ice cream, yummy dinner and super yummy trifle.” It was sweet seeing my tiny ion being held by my huge warrior brother; it emphasised just how tiny Cireolas is. 

 

Who would have thought that little Mel would grow so large. I swear he is as big as Glorfindel. I am not surprised; he works out all the time and spends a lot of time training in the arena. After my babies are born, I will go back to form and become gorgeous again. I feel anything but lovely at the moment; in fact, I feel like a freak and dread growing a big belly. When I was like that with Cireolas, I hid myself away and would only go walking when the risk of being overlooked was minimal. However, it is not forever and I have to make the best of it.

 

“Want trifle now,” Cireolas said to Mel with that sweet earnest face that he pulls when he wants something. “I am a prince. Need trifle.”

 

Mel just laughed and told him not to be so silly. Círdan gave Cireolas a warning look and our little ion poked his tongue out. “Ada, spank him,” Thranduil urged, with a grin on his face. “You would not have put up with that from me.”

 

“I never spanked you as a baby, so why should I spank Cireolas?” I was surprised he should say such a thing, but could not help laughing. I hope he was joking!

 

“Hm…because he is coming out with that, ‘I am a prince’ crap again?” Thranduil grinned even wider.

 

Cireolas put his thumbs in his ears and waved his hands about while poking his tongue out as far as it could go. Mel was killing himself with laughter. Glorfindel took Cireolas and told him to stop immediately. I was most satisfied to hear my brother-in-law tell his husband to stop acting like a rude elfling.

 

“I think Cireolas is tired and needs to go to sleep,” Círdan said.

 

“Me no go to bed. I am a prince,” Cireolas shouted and then poked his tongue out and blew a raspberry. “You only Lord. I am a prince. So shut up.” Círdan and I glared at him. He waggled his head from side to side and taunted, “Nyah nyah nyah nyah!”

 

Thranduil stood up and took hold of Cireolas from Glorfindel. He marched out of the hall with him and we could just about hear him shouting at our silly ion. “…Furthermore your Ada Círdan is not just a lord, he is the High King of the Teleri, and that means he is High King of you too…if I hear anymore of this I am a prince crap…and if I hear you ever being rude to your adas again…you will not tell your adas to shut up ever again or make faces at them, or else…just who do you think you are…” It went on for about two minutes. Thranduil brought Cireolas back into the room and sat him on his knee. “You are sitting with me to make sure you behave yourself. You are not funny and I will not stand for it.”

 

My little ion’s lip stuck out so far that small birds could have landed on it and maintained a comfortable perch. He looked at me and held his arms out, “Ada.”

 

“Absolutely not. You brought this upon yourself.” 

 

Círdan ignored our little ion. I laid a reassuring hand on his wrist. He looked at me and smiled. “Now you see why we need a no-nonsense nanny,” he said. “I am afraid that we are too soft with him.”

 

“I think you are right. Do you have anyone in mind?”

 

“Someone from the school for recalcitrant elflings?” Círdan posed.

 

“Good idea.”

 

“Do you think Thranduil was a bit hard on him?” I asked through our connection.

 

“I wondered that, but look he is being good and not being cheeky.” Cireolas was eating his food and being well behaved. “Perhaps it is what he needed.”

 

We finished our starters. Thranduil rose up to make a speech to the whole hall, holding Cireolas in his arms. He wished all the residents a happy Yule, telling them that the presents would be given out after dinner. My little ion was entranced when Thranduil pointed to the Yule tree. Underneath was a stack of presents and I fully expected him to demand his one straightaway, but he said nothing.

 

Dinner was served. Cireolas ate his minced swan, potatoes and vegetables, with stuffing and gravy, without a word of complaint. Thranduil fed him each spoonful and talked to him about how Father Yule wears a red suit trimmed with white fur and black boots and leaves presents under the Yule tree for all the elflings who have been good.

 

“I got lot of presents, so me good, Grand Ada,” my little ion said hopefully.

 

“Those were from your family. You still have to see whether Father Yule has left you anything under the tree.” Thranduil told him. “If you have been naughty he will leave you a lump of coal.”

 

“No coal for me,” Cireolas said looking very worried.

 

“Why would you get a lump of coal?” Thranduil asked with a knowing smirk on his face.

 

“Me sometimes naughty,” Cireolas said sadly and added quickly that he was not so all the time.

 

“I am sure that if you promise not to be naughty or rude again that piece of coal might change into a nice present,” Thranduil said. “At the moment, I am absolutely certain there is a large lump of coal waiting for you under the tree.” You can tell elflings any old thing and they believe you.

 

“Me not be naughty anymore,” Cireolas said in a whiney little baby voice and looked as if he might cry.

 

“I am sure that if you truly mean it, then you will get a present,” Merilnis said and patted him on the knee as the first tear dripped onto his cheek.

 

“Me say sorry to Adas,” Cireolas said and put his thumb in his mouth. He put his arm around Thranduil’s neck and loudly whispered in his ear, “I want present.”

 

“You do not say sorry just because you want a present.” Thranduil chuckled. “You say sorry because you really mean it.” Cireolas started to cry; he knew he had no hope of getting anything but a piece of coal. “I am sure that Father Yule will give you a second chance if you mean in your heart not to be naughty anymore.” Thranduil said kindly to him. “Now dry your tears.” Merilnis handed him a handkerchief and he wiped my baby’s eyes.

 

After dinner, we sat around the tree with all the residents and all of us received a small gift. Thranduil and Merilnis had selected hair decorations for all the residents, and these were well received; they were strongly made and rather pretty. I know that I will wear mine. Mel was overjoyed at the Hello Vampire ones he received and I know Glorfindel liked his tiny buttercup braid clasps. Of course, Legolas had little kitty ear ones and, oddly, so did Erestor. Círdan’s braid clasps were in the shape of tiny ships and mine had little dragons on them. Elladan and Elrohir, who sat at another table with their latest conquests, received hair slides with tiny waterfalls on them. 

 

I really do hope that Elrohir puts all this extra practice to good use and becomes skilled in the arts of love, otherwise he will be no use to Cireolas at all. Erestor is very disapproving that I do not insist that Elrohir keeps himself for Cireolas; however, it nearly killed Glorfindel when he had to do that for Mel, so I do not say anything at all. Of course, when they are married he will not be able to take lovers, which is what Erestor is afraid of, or else he will face the wrath of just about everyone.

 

All the elflings received their presents last and Cireolas, who sat on Glorfindel’s lap throughout, sucked his thumb looking apprehensive. When his name was called, Merilnis lifted him up and they walked over to Thranduil, who was playing the part of Father Yule. He asked our ion if he had been a good elfling.

 

Cireolas burst into tears, which was quite sad really; however, Merilnis made light of the situation. “Sweet one, do not be scared of Father Yule,” she said with a wink to the crowd. “Naughty Father Yule made you cry. He is rather awesome isn’t he?” She took the present from Thranduil’s hands and sat down again. 

 

Inside the small parcel was a Hello Vampire baby hair slide. “Adas, I not get coal,” Cireolas shouted in delight to Círdan and me. Glorfindel leaned over and slid it into my ion’s hair as Merilnis held him still. “I happy now,” he announced to the whole room.

 

“Let that be a lesson for you,” Glorfindel said with an even face. “Being good gets you everywhere; being naughty just makes everyone think you are horrid.”

 

“Me good now,” Cireolas told him.

 

Ha! In a pig’s eye, Cireolas. Círdan said that he would bet half of Mithlond that he is back to being naughty before the night is over.

 

We will see.

 

 

 

**Part 68 – The Hair Slide Mystery**

 

 

We stayed in Mirkwood until the spring. Thranduil and I spent a lot of this time together, forging our new relationship as we both came to terms with my new dual identity. I would say that we are closer now, which can only be a good thing. Merilnis said that I had made her husband extremely happy and he was able to put away his grief at my death. Even though I was reborn, he could never equate my new existence with the elf I once was. Now, he truly knew I was back. Lucky for me that Círdan did not have the same problems, eh?

 

Mel and Glorfindel travelled back with us, as did the twins. Cireolas had not exceeded expectations with regards to behaviour and had indeed been naughty several times. Círdan’s solution was to take away a Yule present every time our ion was naughty and replace it with a lump of coal.

 

“Look, Cireolas,” my devious and highly amusing husband said. “All your toys are turning to coal.”

 

Poor little Cireolas would burst into tears as each toy disappeared and a lump of coal appeared in its place. I felt so sorry for him, but Círdan was adamant that we continue. “Never mind,” I consoled my little one. “You always have me to play with.”

 

“You not Erestor Teddy,” Cireolas cried, his face red and tears spilling down his cheeks. His new teddy was his favourite toy. He loved it so much that he had named it after his grandada, Erestor, who spent a lot of time with him, just as he did with Mel to calm his naughtiness when young.

 

Erestor and Legolas decided at the last minute to make the journey back to Mithlond with us. “Cireolas can travel with Legolas and me,” Erestor announced. “Now that your bump is starting to show it will probably be a bit uncomfortable for you.”

 

I know Ada meant well, but did he really have to draw attention to my expanding belly? I find it horrendously embarrassing as it is. Mel reported to me a couple of days ago that I was the subject of a rather bawdy discussion in the baths between the warriors who had finished training for the day. He said that he dealt with it by putting the fear of the Maiar into them, and, by the way the warriors are looking at us both, I should think his punishment was not very popular with them. Círdan hit the roof when my brother told him about it and wanted revenge for my honour. Luckily, Mel persuaded him otherwise; I do not even want to contemplate the nature of my sweet one’s revenge, given how angry he was. Still, it made me feel good.

 

The journey home would take a couple of weeks. I fully appreciated my adas kind offer to look after Cireolas, as I was most uncomfortable by the end of each day. Our little ion slept in-between us most nights, and every evening before going to sleep, we chattered to him and told him that we loved him. Every night he asked for his teddy to be given back and every time Círdan would reply that it had turned into a lump of coal because of his behaviour. 

 

“Can’t we give Cireolas back his favourite toy?” I asked, after holding him while he cried himself to sleep, yet again. “I am tired of this battle of wills between you two and it is always me who has to comfort him when you refuse.”

 

“Well stop,” was Círdan’s reply. “You are too soft with him and he has to learn that, as my ion, certain things are expected of him.”

 

“He is far too young,” I protested. “And he is not just your ion, he is mine as well.”

 

“I am not going to argue with you,” Círdan said and turned over in the bedroll, facing away from me.

 

We had this conversation many times. In the end, Cireolas became convinced that he would never get his toy back and became even naughtier. We were nearing the end of our journey when one morning Círdan exploded with anger and demanded to know where his hair slide was.

 

“Do not shout at me,” I spat, heartily sick of his temper.

 

“I cannot ride with hair all over my face,” Círdan shouted and tried to pull me back by catching hold of my arm.

 

“Maybe you were naughty and the Valar turned it into a piece of coal,” I retorted sarcastically. “In any event, I could not care less what has happened to your girly hair slide. Now leave me be and go and question someone else.”

 

I turned away and gave Cireolas to Erestor. “Is there going to be a dreadful argument?” he asked me.

 

“I hope not.”

 

“Well, now is a good time to put into practice what I told you both to do if you start arguing,” Erestor grinned.

 

“What have sex with him while we are getting ready to leave?” I asked, astonished that Ada should make such a suggestion.

 

“We will ride ahead and stop for an hour so you can catch up with us,” Legolas said as he tied the blanket sling around Erestor’s back. “I would hurry if I were you; Círdan looks fit to kill someone.”

 

I unpacked the bedroll and opened it out behind a large rock. “What do you think you are doing?” Círdan demanded. “Put that bedroll back.”

 

“I am sick of your filthy temper,” I said in a normal voice. I wanted to shout back but that would have made the situation worse. “Here have my one.” I took a slide out of my hair and handed it to him. He threw it on the ground and said that he wanted his own one. I picked it up and put it back in my hair.

 

Erestor called to everyone to proceed without us. Círdan shouted angrily that everyone was leaving and I was deliberately delaying him. “Yes, I know.” I smirked. “Now get your clothes off and get in that bedroll.”

 

“What?” he said, shocked that I would demand such a thing when we were supposed to be on the road journeying home.

 

“Strip off now before I tear your clothes off with my bare hands. You know I will do it,” I said in a quiet voice as I removed my own.

 

“Hold on,” he said, realisation dawning on his face. “This is what Erestor suggested isn’t it; when I was recovering from you beating my face to a pulp, remember?”

 

“I am trying to avoid doing so again,” I replied and moved forward away from my clothing, which lay on the ground, and walked the few steps between us to meet him. I held his head still, as I kissed it and, even though he was unwilling at first and protested, I could feel a satisfyingly large bulge when I pressed my groin against his. “Take your clothes off, Meleth,” I breathed, my voice full of desire.

 

“You are not going to give me any peace until I do, are you?” he said softly, all thoughts of his hair slide rapidly vanishing.

 

“None at all,” I replied as I watched him remove his leggings.

 

Free of his clothing, my delicious but still somewhat angry husband took me in his arms and gave me the most stunning kiss. It felt good to be alone with him again and we quickly made our way in-between the covers of the bedroll. “I am going to make you pay for this,” Círdan growled as he held me flat on my back and unable to move. Well, actually I could have moved but that would not have suited the purpose for that particular moment, so I made out I was helpless.

 

“Darling, you are so strong,” I breathed. “You are so powerful.” I do not know how I avoided bursting into a fit of giggles.

 

This made Círdan very happy and he gave a faint smile just before kissing me hard on the lips. His tongue invaded my mouth, while my hands stroked along his back. He kissed, licked and bit along my neck and eventually reached my nipples. In no way can I say that he was gentle. He was like an animal possessed, as he explored my body with his fingertips and his ravenous mouth and tongue. I cried out with each bite but he balanced each lance of pain with a gentle softness and sweet caresses. He reached my hardness and put it in his mouth. “Don’t bite it,” I said quickly, panicking as I felt his teeth when he attempted to put as much in his mouth as he could.

 

Círdan grinned, patted my hip to reassure me and carried on. What bliss; he changed from rough to gentle and I came in great spurts. He swallowed and kissed me hard on the lips. The gentleness did not last long. “On your side,” he commanded and pushed my bent knees over so that my body would follow and he could lay behind me. “Oil?” he asked.

 

“In the pocket of my overcoat,” I replied, wondering how I could have forgotten to get it out.

 

“Stay here,” he said and I heard him muttering that I was a twit as he clambered out of the bedroll and sorted through my clothing. He got back in behind me and oiled himself, giving me a cursory wipe with the stuff as well. He gradually filled me up and then asked if I was all right.

 

Yes, I am all right Círdan and from behind, you hit the right spot every time. He went slow and held onto me, lazily gripping my hardness and whispering that he loved me in my ear. I replied that I loved him too, several times. We came together and let our happiness wash over our fëa as they danced together with the bliss of union.

 

We lay still and I felt Círdan’s soft cock slipping out of me. Sighing, I snuggled backwards to increase our contact. “You know Meleth?” I could feel his grin from behind me. “I am going to start an argument with you every day, just so that we can do this.”

 

“We can do this every day, anyway,” I replied, rather mystified.

 

“There is no feeling in Middle-earth that compares to coming down off my anger while fucking your arse.” He sucked the muscle on my shoulder, so hard that I now have a big black love mark there.

 

I turned over and faced him. “On your front. It’s time for me to come down off my anger now.”

 

Afterwards, we spent some time laying in each other’s arms and chattering, until I said that we should get dressed and catch up with the others. It took a while for us to get out of our lazy state. I could have lain with him all day. We took off at a gentle pace. After a couple of hours we reached the others. 

 

We arrived, just as they were serving an early lunch. Círdan seemed in a much happier mood, until Cireolas asked for his teddy again. “I have told you already; your teddy is now a lump of coal because you were naughty.” Then Círdan seemed to relent somewhat. “If you are good for the rest of the journey home then I am sure Erestor Teddy will be waiting to greet you.”

 

We ate roasted fish and wild root broth, dipping lembas into it. I crushed one of them into Cireolas’ food and fed him. Círdan went off to see if there were any seconds. “Don’t like Ada anymore,” my little ion said to me. “When Erestor Teddy back, he get hair slide back.”

 

“Don’t tell me anymore,” I whispered. “The less who know about this the better.”

 

“I gave it to Grand Ada Erestor and he said Ada angry,” Little Cireolas said as if imparting a piece of highly sensitive information. “Ada, I not care if Ada angry, he took Erestor Teddy. You not tell him?”

 

“I do not approve of what you have done because two wrongs do not make a right,” I replied. “However, this time I will say nothing. We will give it back tonight so that his hair does not fall in his face, or else he will be angrier than he was earlier.”

 

“But Ada got Erestor Teddy,” he whined.

 

“Erestor Teddy was taken off you because you were extremely naughty. That is your punishment. If Ada Círdan finds out you have his hair slide he will take even more toys off you. Do you understand?” I hoped that we were not overheard and looked around to make sure of it. “Now we have to find a way of getting it back to him, without him suspecting it was you.”

 

Cireolas was a bit upset about having to give the hair slide back. We rode off after eating and Círdan did nothing but mutter all day as he wiped the hair from his eyes. We were travelling in a cross wind and he found it very trying indeed. Later that night I slipped the slide in between some of our packed clothing. When Círdan looked for a clean loincloth it fell on the ground.

 

“Look, I have found my hair slide,” he said as he gathered his shoulder length together and passed the slide underneath.

 

“Brilliant,” I said. “Happy now?”

 

Círdan was very happy. As we lay together, with Cireolas fast asleep between us, he asked, “So how did you prise it out of the little bugger?”

 

“I told him you would give him his teddy back.”

 

“Damn,” Círdan was not happy. “I suppose I had better go and get it.

 

The next morning, Cireolas was extremely happy and showed Erestor Teddy to everyone. “Look he come back,” he announced happily to all that would take notice. “I love Erestor Teddy.” Cireolas beamed and kissed the bear’s little snout before giving it an eye-wateringly firm cuddle.

 

We arrived home a couple of days later. Cireolas tried his hardest not to be naughty, but of course he was. He always is!


	27. Part 69 – The Homecoming. Part 70 – The Tower of Slash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Círdan and Ereolas take their elfling’s title away to punish him for being naughty. Círdan and Ereolas have a new suite of rooms. Celebrían and Elrond arrive.

**Part 69 – The Homecoming**

 

 

I am super happy to be home. Queen Nenuial has done a fantastic job running the place during our absence and is staying another week before leaving for home. It is good to be back and everyone seems very happy to see us. There is one thing that I am not at all certain about though; the Ladies Slash Writing Group has joined forces with their sister group in Imladris and they are to have a joint awards ceremony here in Mithlond.

 

During our weekly meeting, Angaráto, our Seneschal, announced that the party from Imladris would be arriving in two days time. 

 

“Has the dear Lady Aglarien entered a story for the competition?” I asked politely about his wife, as one does.

 

“Oh yes,” he beamed. “It is all about how Lord Erestor finds a little black kitten while riding on a sweet little donkey. He gives it to his husband, Prince Legolas, because they are unable to have more elflings and a kitten is the next best thing. I must admit it is a jolly good story and very sensitively done.”

 

“How charming, I cannot wait to read it,” I said with all the enthusiasm I could muster. I could just imagine my adas after they read the story. When they do, I hope I am not around for them to shout at. “Donkey?” Erestor will thunder. “When have I ever ridden a bloody donkey?” Ada Legolas will assume that the little black cat is an indirect reference to his rather questionable sexual preferences and will demand to know why I have told everyone about his kitty ear fetish. Of course, I will reply that it was a coincidence, which he will not believe. Mayhem will result. I hope the Lady Aglarien backs me up on this as I am still, much to Círdan’s amusement, in awe of my parents and do not like to anger them. 

 

“What about the tower guest chambers for the visiting party?” I asked.

 

“I was about to suggest that. They can party to their heart’s content and not worry about waking anyone up.” Angaráto eyes lit up, as if a sudden thought occurred to him. “I might even suggest to Agie that she sleep up there while the awards are on. She will enjoy spending time with all her friends.”

 

“Good idea. We could send a couple of barrels of wine up there as a welcoming gesture.” I took a sip of tea. “Anyway, moving on; when Queen Nenuial departs, we will need to give Galdor’s replacement his apartment.”

 

“I already have that in hand, Sire,” Angaráto smiled. “He is quite excited about the spaciousness of his new chambers. I am led to believe they are larger than the ones allocated to him in Queen Nenuial’s court.” He sipped his tea. “I am rather taken to wondering how Galdor will manage in such a small space. I expect his collection of knitted and crocheted forest animals will have to go into storage.” We tittered. Angaráto is not Galdor’s biggest fan. Even though they are brothers they have argued since they were tiny elflings. “It is so good to see both of you back, Sire,” he said in a most heartfelt way; implying more than etiquette allowed to be said.

 

“How has it been? Give me your personal impressions.”

 

“Well Sire, it has been all right, except that the Queen likes to use her stick on any elf she feels like using it on.” He shifted slightly in embarrassment.

 

“Is there something wrong with taking a stick to a disobedient subject?” I asked, after all Círdan does it quite frequently.

 

“It is not that, Sire,” he said hurriedly. “She walks past the warriors and will at random poke one in the arse with her stick and make them jump. Most awkward if one is firing an arrow or sparring. I am afraid she is egged on by her lover, the Lady Nuinzilien, who finds it terribly amusing.”

 

“Ah, I see,” I chuckled. “She does that to Círdan sometimes. You just have to ignore her.”

 

“She has poked me up the arse with her stick nearly every day since you left for Mirkwood. I walk around with padding down my leggings because I never know when she is going to pounce.” He seemed extremely unhappy, and in a way I could sympathise with him; however, giving Nenuial a reaction just made the problem worse for anyone she struck. Unfortunately, the hysterical amusement she gained from poking someone with her stick has never left her. She took up the practice after her husband was killed and enjoys it so much that I fear she will always do it. I must admit that when I see her whacking someone, it is rather amusing.

 

“How has it been other than the arse poking?” I asked.

 

“Very good,” Angaráto smiled. “I must say she runs a tighter ship than you and Lord Círdan and our days were highly structured. However; it will be good to relax after all these months of frenzied activity. The whole of the kingdom is filled with relief that you are both back, safe and fully in charge.” It all sounded quite ominous to me but I did not pursue the point.

 

I smiled, “We are glad to be home.”

 

“We are glad to see you both again, Sire. I know that my wife would approve most wholeheartedly when I say that we have missed you both.” Angaráto poured another cup of tea for us both. “I have taken the liberty of ordering a new bed with detachable sides for Prince Cireolas, so that he cannot fall out of bed,” He added that my ion really should have his own bedroom now that he was getting older.

 

“I could not agree more,” I replied. “But it is Lord Círdan who will make that decision and he is not happy to at present. So until then…”

 

“Sire, I hear that the Lady Erviniae is pregnant. Would it not be a generous gesture to give her Prince Cireolas’ old crib?” 

 

I gave the most conspiratorial smile that I could. What an excellent seneschal Angaráto is; he thinks of everything. “I am to have twins, and they will need matching cribs; therefore Cireolas’ old one, after only a few weeks use, will not be suitable. We cannot have it going to waste. Can we?”

 

“The new bed is at the woodcarver’s. It is already built. I think that Lord Cireolas will love his new bed; it has his name on the headboard.” Angaráto grinned.

 

“Will he be able to climb out of it?” 

 

“The bed has high sides and ends that will stop him from climbing out. As he gets older they can be swapped for sides that stop him from falling out of bed but have a gap in the middle where he can climb out and run into your bedroom if need be.”

 

“Perfect. You think of everything. Just one thing though…”

 

“Yes, Sire?”

 

“My ion is to be called Cireolas only, not Prince Cireolas. He uses the title of prince to be very naughty. Lord Círdan and I are in agreement with this, so if you could pass the word around we would be most grateful.” There it was done. My little baby would not be happy; however, we intended giving the title back when he is better behaved. For now though, he was just plain old Cireolas.

 

“Of course, Sire. I think he is going to be one very upset little elfling when he finds out.”

 

“It might teach him not to be so rude and demanding to everyone.” I tittered. “He will throw an absolute fit, if I know him.”

 

“May I suggest something, Sire?” Angaráto said, trying not to grin.

 

“You do not have to ask.” 

 

“Perhaps Cireolas spends too much time with his adas and needs to expand his horizons a bit. It might be good for him to spend some hours a day away from you both and see how everyone else lives.”

 

“We are thinking of employing a nanny for him.”

 

“I do not mean just having a nanny,” Angaráto replied. “I meant getting him to spend time with the mother and baby group and going with the other elflings to soft play. Things like that. It would give you a break as well.”

 

“It is a good idea.” A thought occurred to me. “I saw a sensory play room in Mirkwood and a babies painting group, and I would like to set one up here. In addition, I would like to introduce the welfare schemes that they have in Mirkwood. They have been running since I was king there, and are still very successful. I would appreciate running them past you.”

 

“What schemes are they?” Angaráto asked and started writing some pointers on his note pad.

 

“I want wet nursing banned and compensation paid to ellith who are not able to make money, now this source of current income has been taken from them. From next year, this should be completely phased out. Concurrently, there should run a scheme where an allowance is paid in goods or money, to the nana of every elfling, for the first five years of their life. This might encourage the birth of more elflings as we are dwindling in numbers somewhat.” I took a sugar biscuit from the plate beside me. “Finally, warriors who can no longer fight because they have lost a limb, or are injured in other ways that render them ineffective, are to be helped back into work of their choice. This may mean setting them up in their own shop or giving them a desk job here, for example, but they should be able to support themselves and their families at the level they did before.”

 

“Then their expectations need to be realistic and so do yours. How many occupations pay as well as that of a warrior?” Angaráto was not convinced and he pondered the resentment it would cause if a warrior received higher wages that those who worked beside them doing the same job. 

 

Maimed warriors usually sailed, mainly because they were disheartened at their new lack of status and earnings. It was not generally known that Círdan would give them enough money to survive in Valinor for at least five years, once they were on the ship. However, I believed that the warriors should continue to feel included by the society that they had served and not rejected, which they so obviously did if they felt the need to sail.

 

“These are only two things that we have thought of. There are a couple more schemes that we would like to introduce but we need to see how this goes first.” Angaráto was still not happy about the idea.

 

“This will hit your pockets quite hard,” he said. “I estimate that your personal income from collected taxes will go down by a further ten percent, after all the other deductions that you spend it on have been allowed for.”

 

“It is only ten percent,” I said. “What sort of rulers are we if we cannot give ten percent back to those who need it so much more than we do?”

 

Círdan and I do not need any of the tax money we collect and so we do not use it. Tax money is used to pay the wages, clothing, rent and food bills of those who work for us, inside and outside the castle; for when disaster hits and emergency help has to be paid for; for warrior training facilities; for weapons; for building materials for housing and ships; for schools and all healthcare. Our own personal expenses and official visits we pay for ourselves. The unspent tax monies are put aside and stored for other purposes, such as giving generous payments to those who are sailing. Neither Círdan nor I would feel good about our subjects arriving in Valinor with no means at their disposal.

 

“I think this move will be well received but I am not the one whom you will have to consult,” Angaráto smiled. “The tax committee might see it differently.”

 

“It is not as though they can vote against us is it? All they can do is advise. Now,” I said, completely changing the subject. “Who is going to present the slash awards? Do we have a famous elf lined up?” I thought that Mel and Glorfindel would be brilliant for the part as nothing fazes them.

 

“Well,” Angaráto seemed to go a rather rosy shade of pink. “Lindir and his band of minstrels are playing the music. Gildor and the Wanderers will accompany him, of course. They intend camping outside because that is what they want to do now it is springtime. You are hosting and presenting, and…”

 

“WHAT?” No one had even asked if I minded.

 

“Lord Círdan volunteered you,” Angaráto said trying not to titter. “He promised Queen Nenuial that you would. He said you would be happy to when she asked. I am sorry, I thought you knew.”

 

“Meeting’s over,” I said and stood up. “I am going to lynch Círdan, right now! See you later on.”

 

I raced out of the room and ran up the stairs to our apartment. I pushed the door open so hard it flew back to meet me. “Círdan, where are you? You are in so much trouble, you damned swine.”

 

“I am already in bed awaiting my punishment,” he replied laughing. “I am laying on my front with my arse in the air, waiting for you my sweet one. Do not disappoint me.”  
It seems he has taken Ada Erestor’s solution to our arguments, completely to heart!

 

 

 

 

**Part 70 – The Tower of Slash**

 

 

“Come with me, Meleth,” Círdan said and caught my hand. “I have a special surprise for you.”

 

I let him lead me to the stairs that led to the next floor up. “So the new storage level is completed?” I asked. I had never bothered to go up there. Storerooms are the same anywhere; however, I did know there was work going on while we were away. I did not occur to me why Círdan would have such a high storage level, especially as the castle is carved out of a small mountain and the basement levels have never been flooded. However, it is his castle, so I did not argue when he announced the plans to have the whole floor overhauled.

 

We climbed the stairs to a small atrium more richly decorated than any storage level deserved to be. In front of us was an ornately decorated door. 

 

Círdan grinned like an excited elfling. “Do you like it?”

 

“Do I like what?” I replied. “We are looking at a door; a rather sumptuous one for a set of storage rooms.”

 

“Ah. Silly me.” Círdan opened the door and we walked through. “What do you think now?”

 

In front of us was a large room, flooded with filled with natural light from leaded glass windows along one side. It was huge. At one end was a gigantic bed with ornate surround. Above the bed was a glass dome, allowing us to see the sky above. 

 

“It is our new bedroom,” Círdan said excitedly. “The whole room is exactly one hundred foot square. Wait until you see our elflings’ bedrooms.” He led me through another door into a small hallway with five doors. The first three doors, each led to a bedroom of thirty feet square; according to Círdan; they were interconnecting. Leading off the middle bedroom and connected to the two other small bedrooms were three rooms for their live in nannies. The next door led to a large bathroom containing a huge marble pool. “They can learn to swim in that,” Círdan joked. Then we went to the fifth door and I gasped at the size of the room. It was bigger than all the others put together. “This is our living room,” Círdan announced. Along three walls were leaded glass windows, flooding the space with sunlight. Above, a large glass dome, set into the ceiling, threw rainbows of coloured light onto the white marble floor. The room must have stretched the whole length of the side of the castle. I was very impressed.

 

“I do not know what to say. How did I not know about this?”

 

“Let me show you my most favourite room.” Círdan led me back into our new bedroom and to a hidden set of doors behind the bed. 

 

It was beautiful. There was our bathroom. A shining white marble pool, big enough for several elves to lie outstretched. Around the edge stood eight marble columns leading up to another glass dome in the ceiling. The centre of the glass was a light shade of yellow with gold sculpted sunbeams radiating out onto the ceiling, so as to fool the eye into believing the dome was really Anor at its height. The rest of the ceiling resembled a painted blue sky with light fluffy clouds. The pastoral scenes painted on the walls made it seem that the bather was in a small temple or folly in the middle of an idyllic countryside landscape. Through the other doors were our dressing rooms, a private family sitting room, and two studies for when we needed to work in private.

 

“Not in the whole of my two lives have I ever seen an apartment as fine and as grand as this one,” I said, my voice full of quiet awe.

 

“I love you and our little family so much that I only want the best for us.” Círdan put his arms around me. 

 

“Are we going to put Cireolas in his own bedroom?” I asked hopefully.

 

We walked out into our very large bedroom and Círdan showed me an alcove near the opposite end to where our new bed stood. “If we put Cireolas in here for the time being, he can just see our bed and we will certainly be able to hear him. We can do this until the new nanny is appointed then he can go into his own room.”

 

I slipped my arms around my wonderful husband’s waist. I kissed his lips and he growled sexily at me. “Shall we christen the bed?” 

 

“I brought you up here for no other reason,” he replied, his eyes leering at me.

 

o0o0o0o0o0o

 

Círdan and I agreed that the Lord Silimaurë, Captain of the Guard, and his wife, the Lady Erviniae, should have our old rooms. They were larger and had three bedrooms whereas their old rooms only had two. This caused quite a bit of consternation during a meeting with the higher lords, who thought that they should be in the running for our old apartment. It was pointed out to us, time and time again, that the Captain of the Guard was not of an old family; they had only held their title for one thousand years. It was of no matter though because our minds were set on the subject, and so there was very little they could do about it. 

 

During my first fifty years in Mithlond, I was considered a freak because I was not as strong as other elves, was prone to sickness, and then became pregnant. They set much store by titles here, but my titles meant nothing when it came to baiting me. Some were openly scornful, regardless of any sanction that my increasingly angry husband cared to put upon them; they just found different ways to express their nastiness. The only elves who sought to ease my loneliness were the Ladies Aglarien and Erviniae and their circle of friends, followed a short while after by their husbands; this was one of the reasons why I would not ban their slash writing group. They are indeed minxes and constantly run rings around me, but if it were not for them Mithlond would have been a much colder place. Giving our apartment to Erviniae and Silimaurë was a way of making life a bit easier for old friends. Shame on those who thought that they should have our old apartment when they did not have any elflings to occupy the bedrooms.

 

We completed the move and Lady Erviniae was especially delighted with Cireolas’ old bedroom. It was decorated with happy bunny scenes and had a soft play area. My little ion had never used it because Círdan was never confident enough to let him sleep outside our room. 

 

Everything settled down and I breezed happily through the corridors, smug in the knowledge that none of the higher Lords dared to say anything further about our decision. It helped that I had Oropher’s old body and that a tale always grows in the telling. The number of warriors I had subdued with my bare hands, just before leaving for Mirkwood, had grown through popular retelling of the story from fifteen to thirty.

 

o0o0o0o0o0o

 

Ellith from all over started to arrive at the castle for the Slash Awards. We put the whole lot in the largest tower and supplied several large barrels of wine for them to indulge in. I guessed that they would be having lots of parties and so it made sense to give them the drink and a nightly party food, canapé and sweet treats delivery, rather than let them prowl the corridors late at night looking for the wine cellars and kitchens. 

 

Queen Nenuial was in the corridors together with her lover, the Lady Nuinzilien. “Come on, jump to it,” she commanded, while whacking a hapless elf across the ass with her stick. He was trying to manoeuvre her bed through the narrow door to the tower. I smiled and greeted them both. Nenuial grinned back as she pulled her sleeves up and readied her stick again. “Your elves are incompetent,” she laughed. “Either that or they like feeling my stick.”

 

“That was quite a slashy thing to say, darling one,” Nuinzilien smiled as she took Nenuial’s arm.

 

“I am getting into the spirit of the celebrations, sweet one,” Nenuial replied and gave her lover a sweet little kiss before smacking her stick off another ass. “Pick it up,” she boomed at the hapless elf. “Put your back into it. No, do not drop it. Hold onto it properly. Call yourself an ellon? I have seen stronger kittens.”

 

“I will see you later,” I ventured and they both waved as I walked away.

 

Later that afternoon, Celebrían and Elrond arrived with Tena, who wrote a most salacious, but true, scene about us when Círdan allowed her to spy on our lovemaking while we were in Imladris. 

 

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Celebrían beamed. “I am so looking forward to the nightly slash parties in the tower. See you later.”

 

Elrond looked miserably at Círdan and me, as his wife ran off with Tena in the direction of the tower. “I have to sleep on my own,” he complained unhappily. “Celebrían will be in that tower having fun and I will be all alone.”

 

Círdan looked at me with a sly grin and I smiled knowingly back at him in full agreement. “You do not have to be on your own at all,” he suggested to Elrond and gave him a knowing smile.

 

Elrond looked at us both with an enlightened understanding. “I am quite pleased I came.” 

 

The agreement was sealed and while the ellith in the tower would be partying, we would be having our own quieter celebration in our new rooms. I wondered if Ada Legolas would find out before we meant him to.


	28. Part 71 – Cireolas, cake monster!  Part 72 – Pyjama Party!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cireolas wants cake. Two of the guests at Ereolas and Círdan's pyjama party have a surprise celebration. Mel has been especially devious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When Mel was a young elfling he misused his half-Maia powers and gave a goat musical farts that sounded exactly like Lindir's voice. Lindir was mortified. He suspected Mel but never found out the full truth.

**Part 71 – Cireolas, cake monster!**

 

Little Cireolas has a baby walker. It is a metal frame on wood-rimmed metal wheels, with a seat and padded bumpers round the base. There is also a tray at the front for his toys. Erestor Teddy was on the tray and so was his Maglor doll, minus the Silmaril, which like the real one is lost. Our little boy charged around our new bedroom, laughing and yelling at me to watch him as he ran. I sat on the floor and told Cireolas to come over to me, which he did, and surprisingly fast too.

 

It was well into the afternoon and ellith were still arriving for the Slash Awards. A servant informed me that Galadriel and Saelbeth had arrived so I picked Cireolas up out of the chair and told him that we were going to see his Aunty.

 

“It is so nice to see you again!” Galadriel was all over Cireolas and me. Saelbeth grinned and even indulged in a bit of hugging. It did not last long. “Right where is the slash party?” Galadriel looked around as if a magic portal would appear at any moment just for her.

 

“I will take you, Nana,” Celebrían said from behind me, causing me to jump because I was unaware that she was there. “Make it a good night for Elrond,” she whispered into my ear. It took me some time to realise what she meant.

 

I was absolutely mystified at that point, which is not like me at all, and so I thought that I would go to tea with my little ion, who was chewing one of my braids. After removing the clasp from the end, so that he did not accidentally swallow it, I let him continue. 

 

We sat down at our table. I ordered a pot of tea for myself and some mandarin juice for Cireolas, plus some poached salmon and chopped watercress sandwiches for us both.

 

“Want cake,” Cireolas said, his big earnest eyes peering up at me. He sat in a high chair but still seemed somewhat lower than myself. “Want it now.”

 

“What have I said about saying that you want things now?” I asked him.

 

“Not do it,” he replied.

 

“You say, “Please may I have cake,” and then I might order some to eat after our sandwiches.” I smiled and stroked his head. “Can you do that?”

 

He nodded. 

 

“Go on then.” I waited expectantly, giving him an encouraging smile.

 

“I AM PRINCE. WANT CAKE NOW.” His hands curled into fists and he glared at me.

 

“You will be a prince when Ada Círdan gives you back your title and not before,” I told him. “It is no good looking like that at me, either.”

 

“I born prince. You can’t take away.” He continued to glare. “Unca Mel said.”

 

“Ada Círdan can do as he likes in his own kingdom, sweet one,” I told him. “Until then why don’t you try being good and then he might give your title back?”

 

“Like being naughty.” Cireolas giggled and smacked his hands off the high chair tray.

 

“We all like being naughty.” Really, he is the funniest elfling sometimes. Perhaps I indulge him too much, but I was told that I spoiled Thranduil when he was small and he has turned out an extremely fine elf. “Perhaps you should be good in front of Ada Círdan and naughty at other times.”

 

“No, like being naughty in front of Ada.” He then impersonated Círdan telling him off with exaggerated actions and facial expressions. I wanted to laugh, but did not.

 

“You are being very rude about Ada Círdan. I do not want to hear you talk like that about him.”

 

“He took Erestor Teddy. I love Erestor Teddy. Ada took it and I cried. Erestor Teddy cried too.”

 

“You took his hair slide,” I reminded him. “Anyway, you got Erestor Teddy back a couple of days later.”

 

“I do it again as well.” How does one put up with such a wilful child, I wondered.

 

“It is no laughing matter, young Cireolas,” I said while I stroked his neck. “You caused an argument between your adas.”

 

Cireolas giggled for all he was worth. “Don’t care. I do it again.” He squeaked with laughter until the sandwiches came.

 

After the sandwiches, Cireolas still wanted cake. He only has two teeth at the bottom and none at the top, so it took him a while to eat his sandwich. I wanted cake too, but I felt as though I could not give in to an elfling who remained so unrepentant. Picking him up, I told him that we would be going for a walk in the garden.

 

He screamed, “CAKE,” at peak lung capacity and hit me on the head with one of his little fists. 

 

“You are obviously tired,” I told him. “No garden today. You are going straight off to bed.”

 

I could see the others in the large tearoom looking at us. “NOOOOO,” he screamed. “I BE GOOD.”

 

“I have indulged you enough. You are going to bed and that is that. If you hit me again you will not get any dinner tonight. Do you understand?”

 

We went back to our rooms and I put him in his cot. “I sorry, Ada,” he said with a pathetic, worried little face. “I be good.” He held his arms up and I leaned in, kissed his cheek, and covered him with his oliphaunt blanket.

 

“Go to sleep,” I said softly.

 

“You not leave me?” 

 

“No, I will be over by the window reading a book. Just over there, see?”

 

“You promise?” He looked very earnest. To reassure him I went over to the window and waved.

 

“Now go to sleep,” I called.

 

He fell asleep shortly afterwards. Círdan walked through the door. I put my finger against my lips and motioned for him to be quiet.

 

“Has he been naughty again?” Círdan whispered in my ear.

 

“Just the usual,” I whispered back.

 

Círdan stood up and went over to the cot. He peered in for what seemed a long time, before grinning and coming back to sit beside me. “He is the most beautiful elfling. He looks like you.”

 

“I can see you in him too, Meleth.” I smiled and he kissed me.

 

The noise from the Tower of Slash, as it was renamed for the celebrations, was considerable. There were lots of screeches, loud laughter, and shouting. Círdan shut the window. “I have had many complaints from the elder Lords about the noise,” he grinned evilly. “I told them that I would be surprised if there wasn’t any noise and suggested they get used to it.”

 

“You are so clever.” I stroked the side of my husband’s face and kissed him. “No wonder I adore you.”

 

Of course, we ended up in bed. Afterwards Círdan showed me the pyjamas that he had bought for us both in the town that afternoon. “Elrond, Gildor and Lindir were in there too,” Círdan told me as I kissed his bare shoulder. I really cannot get enough of him; he still makes my heart skip with joy. “Good to see that they are getting into the spirit of things.”

 

“Do we have time for a quick bath?” I asked and Círdan shook his head.

 

“If you bathe you will lose the scent of our love. Nothing turns me on as much as you smelling of sex, Meleth.” He pulled me towards him and rubbed his hardness against mine and we ended up having sex for a second time.

 

It was a quickie, but great nonetheless. We hurriedly put our pyjamas on and I picked Cireolas up. “You wear jamas,” he said sleepily.

 

“Yes. That’s right,” I replied, as I took his clothing off to give him a wash.

 

“Want Ada,” he said, meaning Círdan. “Want poo.”

 

I find it highly amusing that Cireolas will only poo if Círdan is there. I hope he is not like it as an adult!

 

I gave our little nudie elfling to Círdan, who put him on his new glass potty. He likes to peer through it to see what he is doing. After a quick wash in the bathroom, Círdan put a nappy on our little boy; he sometimes wets at night; however, during the day he is more or less dry. All I had to do was put his Hello Vampire pyjamas on him and his matching dressing gown and slippers. 

 

We took him down to the overnight nursery, wearing our pyjamas, kissed him lots and told him several times that we loved him. We both explained that he would be staying the night, as our apartment would be too noisy for him, and he would be having dinner with his little friends. We even used the ‘cake’ word. There were already several babies there and I knew that Cireolas would have a good time, as he always did whenever he stayed there. However, he did the obligatory crying, screaming and demanding act to make us feel bad about leaving him. We left him crying on the shoulder of the sensible elleth who always looked after him. She is very firm and will not stand for his nonsense, but is also very kind and gentle with him. Círdan and I have offered her the position of being our elflings’ nanny and she has accepted. It is such a relief to have someone we trust and who is so good with little ones.

 

We hung around outside to see if he would stop crying. I could the carer talking him and he calmed down very quickly. “Tell story?” we heard him ask. Within minutes he had forgotten all about us and was happily listening to the adventures of Hello Vampire and singing the songs in the book.

 

They are not the most riveting stories but, like Mel, he loves them, again and again and again!

 

Círdan linked his arm through mine and kissed my cheek. We walked off smiling and full of anticipation. It would be a good night and lots of fun.

 

 

 

**Part 72 – Pyjama Party!**

 

We arrived back at our apartment. The servants were setting up tables of food in the large, official reception living room. Mattresses and bedding lined up along the wall and the fire roared in the grate, making the large room feel a bit more homely. The official reception living room is extremely grand; for family we much prefer the smaller sitting room behind our bedroom, but I suppose we will get used to the larger room in time. All the furniture was moved away to create a large space. Huge cushions were scattered on the floor together with an assortment of padded quilts and pillows. 

 

Mel and Glorfindel arrived soon after; they always turn up early. “Would you like coloured flames?” Mel asked and waved his hand to show me a selection of colours. We settled on the rainbow spectrum and I reflected how lucky I was to have a half Maia brother. Things are always brighter when he is around, even though I strongly suspect he was the one who told Ada Legolas that Elrond would be sharing my bed. I left him with his husband, pouring some sparkling wine into glasses. Both wore gold lame pyjamas with appliqué otters on them.

 

The servants delivered a huge cake. Mel covered it, lest it was seen by the elves it was made for. Lindir and Gildor arrived with a couple of their party, all wearing silly animal themed pyjamas. Elladan, Elrohir and Elrond arrived shortly after. Elrond’s pyjamas were pink, which is his favourite colour, and the twins wore lime coloured, embroidered stars on a cerise background.

 

“Looks like a good night tonight,” Elrond said. “I did not know that it was…”

 

“Shush!” I laughed. “Just in case they hear.”

 

“Oops,” he replied and looked over in the direction of the table. “See you in a minute when I have had a drink. It’s a thirsty business keeping things secret.”

 

Saelbeth, Silimaurë, Angaráto, Galdor and a couple of the more amenable elder Lords, arrived shortly after. All wore silly pyjamas, just as the invitations said they should.

 

“Agie bought these for me,” Angaráto said giving us a twirl. “Delightful, aren’t they?”

 

Silimaurë remarked that he did not know that Hello Vampire pyjamas came in adult sizes. Then he showed us the pink, brushed cotton ones his wife Erviniae had bought for him. They had little elves wearing kitty ears printed on the back and borders, in what looked like a mass orgy.

 

“That looks like something Ervy would buy.” I laughed, feeling incredibly relieved that my husband had bought dark blue, singing oliphaunt pyjamas for us both. 

 

A servant knocked on the door and entered. “Sire,” he said. “Your Ada’s are ascending the stairs.”

 

Everyone assumed the position. We could hear Ada Legolas loudly arguing with Ada Erestor about how he wanted to give me the thrashing of my life because apparently I will ‘screw anyone’ and how it was strange that the paddle he intended using on me had gone missing.

 

“I wish you hadn’t told our adas that I was going to sleep with Elrond,” I whispered to Mel.

 

“Yes, but it meant that he did not suspect what was really going to happen,” he replied and poked his tongue out. “I think you should be more bothered that he believed the lie without any difficulty.”

 

The door opened, with Ada Legolas still giving Ada Erestor an earful. “Surprise!” we all shouted.

 

They both looked startled. “Happy Anniversary!” we shouted next and cheered.

 

They looked at one another and then at Mel and me. “It isn’t our anniversary until tomorrow,” Ada Erestor said.

 

“The slash presentations are tomorrow, so we thought we would celebrate a day early.” I said and handed them a pair of silver pyjamas each with little kittens embroidered around the edges. “Put these on and then come back in here.”

 

Ada Legolas stared at me. “I thought that…”

 

“I know very well what you thought,” I replied. “But now is not the time for that.”

 

“I am so sorry,” Ada said, and then glared at Mel.

 

“Just go and change,” I replied and walked away, suddenly feeling very tired and not in the mood for celebrating anymore.

 

A pair of arms hugged me from behind and Ada Legolas kissed my cheek. He turned me around and pulled me close. “I love you very much. You are my ion.” He stroked my head and held it against his chest. “I am extremely sorry for all the hurt I have caused you. All I can say in my defence is that because of your past behaviour I believed Mel too readily. Come let us finish this conversation in another room.”

 

We went into the bedroom. “Ada, Celebrían has told me that she expects me to give Elrond a good time tonight. It is all over the place that you were going to spank me with that studded paddle for something that only Mel said that I was going to do.” I said as he put his pyjama top on.

 

“You have done it before, so what was I expected to think?” 

 

“Ada, my belly is showing and I do not feel completely confident about my body anymore. This was so cruel of Mel. I had to suffer the taunts of those who lived here when I was pregnant with Cireolas. Now I am being laughed at because I told Mel that Elrond would be coming tonight and he decided to make some scurrilous fun out of it, knowing full well that we planned a party for tonight and everyone would be spending the night here. He even wrote in his journal that we were going to sleep together.”

 

“Elrond thought that you planned that as well. He said so to Celebrían at lunch.” Ada had a point there.

 

“Elrond said that he did not want to spend the night alone and so Círdan said he could spend the night with us. Because we thought it would be fun, we did not tell him that several others would be there too, until about half an hour later. We never thought that he would tell anyone in that short a time. What sort of elf is he?”

 

“See how little jokes can go so wildly wrong?” Ada said as he disappeared behind an alcove and put his pants on. He came back. “Elrond told Mel, who seems to have told everyone he could find, even though he knew it was a lie.”

 

“You reinforced it by walking around in a temper, with a paddle for my arse, when all the time it should be Mel that gets the paddling.” 

 

Ada sat down beside me. “You accept that Círdan and you are not completely blameless?”

 

“I know,” I replied. 

 

“Well, Mel has been very naughty, but I am going to let Erestor and Glorfindel deal with his bad behaviour. They seem to be able to get through to him more effectively than I can. However, how do you think it looked to me? I did not know anything about a party and was not privy to the full information, or even knew there was more to the story.” He put his arm around me. “This sort of promiscuity can wreck marriages. It places yours at risk every time you both share your bed with another. Little jealousies, falsely perceived inattentions and bad feelings, seep in and erode the partnership and the safety of the love. I have seen it happen before and I do not want that for you. You are too good for that. Put Oropher’s ways behind you and treasure what you have. This marriage is far better than anything you ever had when you were a king and it is more precious.” All the time he talked to me, he had his arms around me. His voice was soft and filled with his love. I was so relaxed that I felt my eyes closing; it does not take much for me to fall into a slumber since becoming pregnant. “You are falling asleep,” Legolas laughed. “Am I that boring?”

 

I snuggled up to my ada; he felt warm and both of us needed the time together. We sat for a few seconds until Erestor walked in and asked when we were joining the party. He looked around, “Your bedroom is huge. I do not think I have ever seen one as big as this.”

 

“I was very surprised when I saw it. I thought that Círdan had commissioned a load of storerooms.” I rubbed my eyes. “Cireolas loves racing his baby walker across the floor. I don’t think he has ever seen so much uninterrupted space.” Looking over at the empty baby walker, I wondered if he was asleep yet. 

 

“Your bed is the widest one I have ever seen,” Ada Legolas remarked. “Is that for when your elflings want to get into bed with you?”

 

“Cireolas is always demanding to get into our bed and so it probably is.” I grinned. “I am glad I do not have to make it though.” 

 

Ada Erestor went behind the bed and changed into his pyjamas. When he came back, he took Ada Legolas’ arm and kissed him. “Everything sorted?” he asked, then looked at me. I nodded and he looked to Ada for confirmation. When he was satisfied, he put his other arm through mine and we walked out of the bedroom into the small corridor and into the living room. 

 

All the mattresses had been pulled up in front of the fire; the feather quilts and pillows were used for lounging upon. It was going to be a night of silly games, marshmallow roasting, fondue, drink, and ghost stories. I sat down beside Círdan, who whispered that he hoped everything was all right. I told him that I would tell him the next day and that all the bad feeling had gone and the truth was now known.

 

“Good,” he whispered and kissed my cheek.

 

“Mel is in trouble,” I said softly in his ear.

 

“Gets even better, doesn’t it, Meleth?” He laughed and hugged me with one arm, while steadying himself with the other. “Right who is going to tell the first story?” He looked at Glorfindel. “Why don’t you tell everyone about the time Mel turned your willy green?”

 

Lindir looked incredibly interested. Maybe he would find out about what really happened about the farting goat.

 

The momentary look of panic on Mel’s face was priceless.


	29. Part 73 – The Slash Awards – part one.  Part 74 – The Slash Awards – part two. Part 75 – The Slash Awards – part three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Slash Awards Ceremony starts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to: Mdarkdreamer for Nenuial; Nuinzilien; Erviniae; Zhie for Galade; Aglarien1 for Aglarien; Weepingnaiad for Sídhiel, Norion and Surion; Elladansgirl for Anira; Fimbrethiel; Zilah1 for Zilah; Faramirhaldir for Tena; Daeomae; Ardisia for Limnoreia, for allowing me to use their names.

 

  **Part 73 – The Slash Awards – part one.**

Erestor has taken Legolas out for the day. No doubt, they will be shagging like bunnies in the first glade they reach. However, good luck to them; it is their wedding anniversary and I hope they enjoy their day.

 

I will be presenting the slash awards and I am not really looking forward to it. The Hall of Thrones is crowded with loads of ellith in all their finery. There is the occasional ellon but this really is a night for the ladies. I am informed that there is a party being held elsewhere that will be mainly attended by the ellyn of the court. I wish I were there. I could do with a drink.

 

If I cannot go off and enjoy myself then neither can Cirdan. Elrond, Elladan, and Elrohir are sitting with Celebrían, which I suggested to her, so that when she won they could show proper support for her. They do not look very happy. Galdor is holding Galade’s hand; he is besotted with her and looking in any other direction would probably cause his head to snap off his neck. Mel and Glorfindel sat on the stage to one side. They will be giving the awards to the lucky recipients.

 

Mel was slouching in his chair. When I looked at him to straighten up, he surreptitiously extended his middle finger. “It hasn’t started yet,” he whined. “Why do I have to kiss the winners?”

 

“Because when Ada Erestor refused, they said you would be a good second.” I did not tell him that Glorfindel was also their first choice. No need to set the cat among the little birds.

 

 

The ellith had wanted Erestor and Glorfindel. Ada was perceptive enough to realise that his services would be asked for, so he and Ada Legolas rode off this morning, after changing out of their pyjama party wear and have not been seen since. Queen Nenuial and her lover, the irrepressible Lady Nuinzilien, were already sitting in the front along with Galadriel. Cireolas is back in the crèche; we let him out this morning, but by now he should be making sandcastles on the private beach attached to the castle. It can only be reached by tunnel and is very safe for small elflings as the water remains shallow quite far out to sea.

 

After the audience had settled into their chairs, I introduced myself. Not that they were unaware of who I was but it seemed the right thing to do. Queen Nenuial also insisted that I wear my very best clothes and my outrageously formal crown, the one containing over a thousand diamonds. It is very heavy, so after the main introduction and introducing Lindir, who was going to sing about the joys of a rainbow or some other such crap, I put the crown on Círdan’s lap telling him not to let it out of his sight.

 

“Bloody thing,” he hissed. “I don’t know why you give in to that elleth all the time. You did not have to wear it.”

 

“Nana-in-laws are to be feared,” I said with a straight face. “Especially if they carry a big stick around with them.” I must admit there is a part of me that fears displeasing my nana-in-law. She is extremely large hearted and generous, except if you are a servant, and has always been very supportive of me; however, she is also extremely formidable. I think that if ever I got on the wrong side of her, she could reduce me to a blubbering idiot with just one glare.

 

Cirdan shook his head as if I were a simpleton and told me that my audience was waiting.

 

I want back to the stand and thanked Lindir for his wonderful performance. The ellith were clapping wildly and I idly wondered how many stories had been written with him as the subject.

 

I told the joke about Ereinion and the mad human woman, who accused him of having sex with her pet badger, and then moved on to the first award.

 

The winner of the Imladris category was Tena, who wrote a simply marvellous story about how Cirdan had handcuffed me to the chair, bound and gagged me, and then sucked my cock until I had one of my most intense orgasms ever. That was the time that Cirdan had secreted her away behind a screen so that she could watch us and write about it afterwards. I was their unwitting pawn and knew nothing about it. Tena had promised not to publish the story when she saw how horribly embarrassed I was, and yet here it was. I had to make out that I was extremely pleased for her. She is lucky that I always follow the rules of courtly etiquette.

 

Tena came onto the stage. Mel and Glorfindel gave her a glass ornament thing and kissed her. Then I had to shake her hands with a fixed smile on my face.

 

“It was such a wonderful scene that I couldn’t resist sharing. Hope you do not mind,” the brazen minx said after giving a little speech to the audience, and then turned away before I could answer. How I wanted her to trip on the stairs leading off stage.

 

The winner of the Lothlórien category was a rather buxom peredhel named Sídhiel, who spends most of her time in Imladris, but had been on holiday in the Golden Wood once and liked it so much that she wanted to live there in the future. She was the writer of a rather jolly story about Haldir and Celeborn, who tied themselves up as part of a sex game and then realised that neither could free themselves from their bonds. They had to wait the whole weekend to be rescued by Rúmil, who took much delight in teasing them afterwards.

 

Mel and Glorfindel handed the glass ornament first prize thing to Sídhiel and kissed her. I noticed that my brother-in-law glanced in a more than cursory fashion at her breasts. Fully elven ellith do not have large breasts, a design fault if you ask me, and so when ellyn see ones that are more than a handful it drives them wild. I can tell you now, I imagined nestling my head between those two beauties for more than a few seconds.

 

“Thank you so much,” she squealed in delight and gave a sweet little speech thanking all of those who had supported her writing. After her speech, she hugged me again and kissed my cheek, and then she hugged Mel and Glorfindel again, and kept thanking us, saying that she had never won anything before. She even hugged Cirdan who was still laughing about the subject matter of her story.

 

How delightful Sídhiel was; she cheered me up no end. She was flanked by both her lovers, Norion and Surion, who made sure that they congratulated her appropriately when she sat back down. I am almost sure they are from Mirkwood, courtesans if I remember correctly. However, I am idly gossiping here and that sort of thing should be below an etiquette loving ex-king.

 

I stood before the audience again and told the old joke about Galadriel using a pork chop as an aphrodisiac. The audience howled with laughter and Galadriel, who I had forgotten was in the audience, looked at me with one eyebrow raised. It actually was not a joke; it really happened. Her Ada Finarfin, who was less than impressed with Celeborn because he beat him in a skipping tournament, advised her to put a two day old pork chop under her new husband’s pillow, claiming that it would drive him into a wild sexual frenzy and that she would have the time of her life. He also said that he did it to her nana all the time, which was a complete lie.

 

In the morning, she belted Finarfin across the head with it. He could not stop laughing and so she did it again. In the end, he had to apologise and then take a bath because of the smelly meat juices covering his head. Honestly, how silly must Galadriel have been to believe that he was telling her the truth.

 

I continued with the Mirkwood category. Anira, a sweet young elleth whom the guards made prove that she was over fifty before letting her in, because she looked very young for her age, wrote a story about King Oropher beating the dragon and then forcing it to have sex with him. I was most shocked. My brother, his idiot husband, and Cirdan sniggered loudly as I read it out. In the front row, Galadriel smirked. Every time the dragon had sex with Oropher, it became a little smaller and then one day, when it was the same size as Oropher, it turned into a beautiful Maiar and married him. A bit like the old prince kissing the frog chestnut, but there it is. She looked too sweet and innocent to have written stuff like that. It was full of bondage, discipline, humiliation, and sadomasochism, most unlike anything I would choose to do in reality.

 

“Where did your inspiration come from?” I asked her in front of the audience, after she had kissed Mel and his idiot husband.

 

“It all came from out of my head,” she wittered clutching her first prize glass thing. “I took an old legend and reworked it.”

 

She then proceeded to give a small speech. The audience went wild applauding her. There were certainly many fans in the audience who were familiar with her writings, and it made me wonder what those ellith were like at home in their bedrooms. I did not spend too long wondering because it is well known that pondering about ellith for too long can turn the brain; at least that is what Elrond says and he always knows what he is talking about.

 

It was at that point that we decided to adjourn to the Hall of Crystal Thrones for refreshments. A nice cold drink of lemon sherbet mixed with white wine and rosemary sprigs could not have been more welcome.

 

I stood with my drink in hand, my love behind me, his arms around my waist, kissing my neck. “You did very well,” he said as I leant my head back against his shoulder. My old crown hung around his wrist like a bangle.

 

“It was not as bad as I thought it would be,” I replied. “I hope there are no more stories with me in them.”

 

“I would not like to bet on it,” Cirdan said softly in my ear and then flicked the tip with his tongue. “They seem to find you as fascinating as I do. Tonight I will love you, and I will not allow you to move a muscle. Tonight will be your night and you will know how much I adore you.”

 

I smiled and sighed with happiness. There might be a whole raft of stories about me but nothing would ever approach the real thing.

 

 

 

**Part 74 – The Slash Awards – part two.**

 

 

After half an hour the audience were settled in their seats again and awaiting the next award category. Instead, I introduced Lindir who sang a song about a sweet little otter that his horse had accidently stepped on and killed while running across a river. Mostly, the song was a lament to how guilty he felt.  Cathartic musings irritate the life out of me and are so self-indulgent; very inappropriate at a happy awards ceremony. No wonder we all think the twit is an absolute drama queen.

 

Mel was entranced and nearly in tears. He held Glorfindel’s hand and dabbed the corner of his eye with a tiny, white lace handkerchief, murmuring how sad the song was. Lindir and Mel are the drama queen twins. I wish I had known a joke about them to tell the audience but I did not. It hardly matters; Lindir reduced the half the ellith to tears and anything I said afterwards could only lift their spirits.

 

After telling the joke about Gandalf and his knobbly stick, that shrinks when he needs it to, I introduce the Mithlond award. The Ladies Aglarien and Erviniae won for a story entitled, ‘Spanking Galdor’. They both came up to the stage smiling warmly at me and waving to all their friends.

 

Erviniae cleared her throat, so Aglarien used it as an opportunity to start talking first. She explained that Cirdan had spanked Galdor, for being very naughty, a couple of months before. Galdor had graciously related the story of what happened, so that they could write a fictionalised account of it. Cirdan looked extremely angry and I wondered if I could get away with announcing another break and pulling him behind a tapestry for a quickie. Damn! He is such a turn on when he glares like that.

 

Anyway, I did not do anything of the sort. I smiled graciously as they were kissed by Mel and Glorfindel and given the glass first prize ornament to share between themselves. Then they skipped over to Cirdan and gave him a big hug, before returning to me in the centre of the stage. “Nyah nyah nyah nyah,” Erviniae whispered in my ear. “Told you that we would find out what happened.”

 

I gave a huge smile, as etiquette demanded in public, and whispered back, “Cirdan is so angry, I would not be surprised if he spanked you in public.”

 

“Mmm…spanked by Círdan,” Aglarien whispered, laughing as she did so. “My dreams have all come true.”

 

Damned minxes. Does nothing ruffle those two?

 

“Let us all show a round of appreciation for Prince Ereolas and Lord Círdan for graciously allowing us to hold the first ever Middle-earth slash awards in their castle. They have opened their home to us and have fully supported us in what has become an ellith centric art form which grows daily in popularity. Lord Cirdan and Prince Ereolas are truly one of slash’s greatest benefactors.”  There were cheers, whoops and calls from the audience, along with wild rounds of applause and the shouting of our names. Cirdan and I had to thank the audience, even though we did not want to. Aglarien and Erviniae stood beaming and thinking that they had got away with their naughtiness; I sidled up to them both and told them this did not change a thing.

 

They made out they had not heard me and skipped lightly off the stage blowing kisses to various members of the audience.

 

What am I to do with two such badly behaved ellith? It is lucky that they are both friends of mine.

 

The next category was Harlindon, where Queen Nenuial lives. It was no surprise that she won, with a story about a sweet little elfling who was so pretty that a besotted sea monster reached its tentacles through the window of his parents’ castle, and took him away. By the time Ulmo rescued him the elfling had become an adult. It took the Vala over fifty years to rescue him. The time taken was explained away by Ulmo patrolling the southern seas below the equator and getting lost. As if that could happen. The upshot was that the elf refused to leave the sea monster, as he believed it was his ada. Nienna stepped in, took away the elf’s memories of the sea monster, and gave him new ones. The elf turned on the sea monster and killed it easily; it would not fight back because it still loved him. At that point, the elf’s memories resurfaced and he drove the sword through his own heart, as he was maddened with grief over what he had done.

 

In parts, it was a very good story, but Ulmo’s absence had to be explained more convincingly for it to be taken seriously. It occurred to me that the story was actually not a slash piece of writing at all. How cool is Queen Nenuial in gaining first place with a story that does not fit the criteria of slash? I am not about to point anything out to those who judged her story as worthy of first place but I do wonder how the selections and voting for stories takes place.

 

My dear mother-in-law made a lovely speech in which she urged the audience to show their appreciation to me for agreeing to host the awards. I was feeling quite good by now, until she announced that a little prince and a princess would be born to Cirdan and me in six months time. She said that on behalf of everyone in the audience, she wished me a safe and happy pregnancy and delivery, with many years of fun and laughter as my elflings grew into adulthood.

 

I can see it now. Next year there will be a whole load of angst ridden male pregnancy stories. I could feel every ellith boring their eyes into my barely showing belly and felt myself blush. Cirdan rescued me by thanking Nenuial and kissing her hand before guiding her to Mel and Glorfindel who gave her the glass prize award and kissed her. I overheard Mel saying that her story was simply marvellous and had moved his heart; Glorfindel stood agreeing with him.

 

“That is because I write from the heart, dear boy,” she said with a huge smile and hugged him hard.

 

Lindir sang yet another song. This time it was about a goat whose farts had Thranduil’s voice. Human villagers, amused that the King of Mirkwood was now speaking through a goat’s arse, celebrated by holding a carnival in its honour. Bit of wishful thinking there, Lindir. We all know the true story and Erestor thought it was so funny that he recorded it in the elven chronicles. History is written by those who record it first, sweet minstrel, and no amount of ballads stating an alternative version will change that.

 

The next series of categories was devoted to the races of Middle-earth. Elves, Humans, Orcs and the newly discovered creatures called hobbits.

 

Galade won first prize for writing a story about Glorfindel and Erestor having sex on a trampoline. It was a wonderfully scurrilous and amusing piece. Several times I was helpless with laughter. Glorfindel looked quite nonplussed and Mel would have had steam shooting out of his ears if it were possible.

 

The dear Lady came up on stage and looked shyly at everyone. “Thank you, this means so much to me,” she said in a soft, clear voice, which I doubted would reach the back of the hall. “I do not normally write comedy but Galdor, who has asked me to marry him, has brought joy into my heart. I find it hard to be anything but happy now and wish the same for all of you.”

 

She talked a bit more, until Mel and Glorfindel gave her the first prize glass award, hugged her and kissed her, and sent her back down into the audience to sit with her lover. Galdor kissed her lips and admired the piece of glass tat that she clutched in her fingers.

 

It was at that point when I decided that we needed further refreshments. My mouth was dry and the audience were not paying attention as well as they should have been. We departed to the Hall of Crystal Thrones.

 

I took a long drink of the lemon sherbet drink that one of the servants gave to me. “I needed this,” I said happily to Círdan.

 

“I will take some water in for you when we go back,” Cirdan said. “I think we must be about half way through now.”

 

Only half way though. I had hoped the ceremony was nearly over.

 

After half an hour, we made our way back to the Hall of Thrones. I stood in front of the audience and gave them the widest of smiles.

 

Here we go again!

 

 

 

**Part 75 – The Slash Awards – part three.**

 

The ellith settled back into their seats. I introduced Lindir again, and he in turn introduced two dancers who were going to dance the Lay of Leithian. The Lay is about a hundred-million lines long, so I wondered what he was thinking of. Thankfully, it was the speeded up version, or else we would have been watching it and falling asleep for the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening.

 

The dancers were good, and I was amazed at how gracefully the elleth was able to dance on the very tips of her toes. She was very supple, causing me to wonder what she would be like in bed, as all ellyn do when presented with a near contortionist female. Her partner was nowhere near as bendy limbed, but I know that neither Cirdan nor I would have refused him a threesome if he asked.

 

I digress. I thanked the dancers and they left the stage to a round of well-deserved applause. Lindir, was still sitting with his eyes shut and a slight smile on his lips, caressing his harp. I ignored him and told the joke about Sauron going into a field of cows and the wind lifting off his hat. He tried on fifty before he found the right one. The ellith indulged me with much laughter and then I went on to announce the winner of the Men category.

 

The winner for, “Becoming a man,” about Elros’ decision to abandon Elrond as his lover and become a human because of a little tiffette they had, was won by Galadriel, who strode imperiously on to the stage, smiling like a terrier who has just been given a biscuit. In the audience, I could see Celebrían with her arm around Elrond, talking to him; he looked outraged and upset. It was all rather sad and Galadriel should have known that her ion-in-law still felt his brother’s loss. It was absolutely scurrilous that she named them as lovers because they were nothing of the sort, and I feel that she has taken advantage of them both just to win a silly piece of glass. Since her divorce from Celeborn, she has become far less concerned about the feelings of others and is behaving like a self-centred elfling. I really liked Galadriel, but now I am not so sure. However, I said nothing and greeted her with a kiss. Mel and Glorfindel hugged and kissed her and she accepted the little piece of tat that meant so much to her and thanked everyone for voting for her.

 

There was applause as she left the stage, but it was not with the same wholeheartedness that the other winners had received. All elves will live again and separation is not forever, but Elros will always be lost to Elrond and she should have considered the hurt that this will always cause him. I looked at Cirdanand his face was like thunder, the very same thoughts occurring to him also. I expect he will be giving a stiff lecture to a certain ring bearer in the very near future.

 

I moved swiftly on to the orc category and there was a charming little tale by Zilah about Sauron being injured by Erestor and Glorfindel, who were warrior lovers, and an orc nursing him back to health. The orc and the Dark Lord fell in love. They married and gave up their bad ways in favour of running a mountainside ski resort. A rather bizarre tale if you ask me. Still, it hurt no one and made us all laugh.

 

Sweet Zilah came up on stage and was most enthusiastic with her hugs.  “I have never won a slash award before,” she trilled as she hugged me again. “Thank you so much!”

 

She then hugged us all again and skipped off the stage.

 

“Zilah,” I called after her. “You have forgotten to take your award.” I held it out to her and she came back to the stage.

 

I gave the glass award to her and she examined it for a microsecond. “It’s the winning that counts really, isn’t it?” she said and gave me the loveliest smile ever.

 

“Absolutely,” I said and smiled back.

 

I took the opportunity to introduce Mel and Glorfindel to the audience at that point; having forgotten the joke I was supposed to tell and they bowed and waved to tumultuous applause from the ellith.

 

I then proceeded to tell them about the time when Glorfindel was caught wearing a milkmaid outfit; it was not even a fancy dress day and he definitely was not posing for a portrait. There was much hilarious cackling from the audience. When I looked around, my brother-in-law was red faced and furiously denying it to my brother, who was beside himself with laughter. I will have to tell Mel later on that I made it up because Cirdan triple-double-dared me to do it through our connection. You cannot get out of a triple-double-dare; everyone knows that.

 

The award for the best Hobbit story was a young elleth with the most shining blond hair and blue eyes that I have ever seen. Her parents had named her Nienna, after the Vala, and so I supposed the real Nienna would have had a hand in making sure that her little namesake grew up radiantly good looking, because it might have been a reflection on her otherwise.

 

I have never seen a hobbit in person, although I have seen drawings of them. They look to be strange little beings, and I am informed that they are less than five feet tall; eat prodigious amounts of food, including their young during times of famine, and have furry feet. I do not think that I will believe any of that, until I see one for myself. I seriously doubt that they have furry feet, it is too ridiculous to even countenance.

 

The story was about a drinking game between two hobbits that ended in professions of undying love and immature fumblings behind a barrel of beer, and a hunk of cheese used as a sex toy. All fascinating stuff. I asked Nienna from where she got her inspiration.

                                                                                                                                            

“I dreamt it in a vision,” she said dreamily. All right, do not tell us; yours is another name to add to the growing list of minxy ellith.

 

Nienna skipped over to Mel and Glorfindel, who asked her what shampoo she used, and she hugged them both. After kissing them and quickly taking the bit of glass with her name on, she walked over to me and smiled.

 

“I would like to thank my parent’s for giving birth to me; my brothers and sisters for showing me the right path when I could so easily have been lost; my aunties and uncles for enriching my life with tales of long ago….” She carried on in this vein for at least ten more minutes and resisted all attempts by myself to end her monologue and get off the stage. Then she held her award up and thanked those who had voted for her and a tear of happiness fell from her eye. “I feel so overwhelmed,” she said, her voice breaking.  “This is the first slash award I have ever won.”

 

No one has ever won a slash award before and I noticed that the audience were shifting in their seats, hoping that she would get off the stage. I was just going to interrupt when she told the audience that she had written it for her nana, who had slipped over after treading on a worm that was lying on the stone path leading from their house She hit her head and never woke up. That happened several years before. Her nana was sent off to sail so would not die.

 

“This is for you, Nana,” Nienna said loudly, her eyes shining as she smiled. “I know that you can see me from Valinor, and I know that you will be proud of me. I love you Nana.” She blew a kiss into the thin air and then hugged me again. Taking her glass award, she walked off the stage.

 

The audience cheered her on and I said something to the tune of feeling sure that her Nana would be very proud of her indeed. What does one say when someone is still so obviously grieving? It brought back old memories. I remember when I had to visit the families of the dead after battle and tell them that their loved ones had died. There was always the air of politeness as well as the unspoken question carried clearly in their eyes, ‘How did you not die too?’ Only a coward would send someone else to carry out such an unpleasant task. It was a valuable experience and one that I made Thranduil partake in as soon as he was able, to teach him empathy and to show that he cared about them on more than a material level. If you are to lead a people then you have to win their hearts and minds, you have to give them something in return to ensure true loyalty; it is a lesson he learned well.

 

My maudlin thoughts were pushed aside as I asked the audience why the dwarves were not in any of the categories. Someone from the back, shouted out, “Because we don’t like them,” at which everyone laughed. Fimbrethiel, who organised that part of the awards, crooked her finger for me to come nearer. She was at the front and told me that they had forgotten to include them. When they remembered, it was too late to alter their plans.

 

It was at this point that I decided to tell them the story of Mel, when he was an elfling and he met Bainon for the first time. He had called him ‘Bainon one-inch’ and the name had stuck ever since. There were gales of laughter, because Mel’s fame had reached far and wide purely because he was so naughty. I then told them about when we were in Lothlórien and how the Valar made Erestor into an elfling for the day. The elfling Erestor had punched Mel on the nose, causing my brother to pronounce him naughty indeed. The whole of the audience were crying with laughter as Mel sat grinning. Then I announced the award for the best story about an elfling.

 

The story was imaginatively titled, ‘Fëanor the Elfling’ and was won by Limnoreia. She came up on stage, grinning madly and hugged me. I smiled as I always like being hugged by elf maidens, and then she turned her attention to Mel and Glorfindel. She hugged them both and kissed them several times before taking the bit of glass with her name on it. Then she came to the front of the stage.

 

“I have just kissed Glorfindel!” she shouted out to the audience who cheered wildly. Then she looked around slightly and said, “Mel you are lovely, but Glorfindel Whoo Hoo! I would trampoline with you any time! You are one lucky elf, Melpomaen Erestorion. If ever you tire of your big, sexy, blond warrior, send him my way.”

 

“She’s a bit forward, isn’t she?” Mel said, gripping his husband’s arm as though he might do a runner.

 

Glorfindel merely grinned and hugged Mel in front of everyone to show where his loyalties lay. An insecure Mel is always fun and I laughed along with the audience. When Glorfindel gave him a chaste kiss on the lips everyone cheered, not least Limnoreia.

 

I stood grinning as Limnoreia made her speech. She giggled with laughter all the way through thanking everyone and making us laugh as well. Then she said that she had needed to thank her husband for all his support in writing the story and listening to endless rewrites with much patience, more so than she would have had. “I never expected to hear a story about him though,” she trilled. “It was so funny. I know he will howl with laughter when I tell him about it.”

 

I looked at Mel and he looked at me.

 

It was time to announce another break.

 

 

 


	30. Part 76 – The Slash Awards – part four. Part 77 – The Slash Awards – part five – The Finale! Part 78 – The Morning After. Part 79 – In Círdan’s arms.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ereolas hears about the misfortune of an old enemy. The Slash Awards come to a finale. Cireolas talks through Ereolas’ belly to his unborn brother and sister. Galadriel is upset.

**Part 76 – The Slash Awards – part four.**

 

 

 

The audience moved to the Hall of Crystal Thrones after I announced a break. I joined Mel and Glorfindel, and asked who they thought Limnoreia’s husband might be. Like me, they were certain he was Bainon.

“I wonder if he is here,” I said more to myself than them.

 

“I hope not,” Mel said darkly.

 

“You have nothing to fear from him,” Glorfindel said. “He went to Haldir’s school, and I should think he is a very different elf now.”

 

“He was a bully when he was younger and he will be a bully now, although I accept that he is unable to physically hurt me,” Mel said. “He will still have a vicious tongue.” I could not think why this would bother my brother, but said nothing.

 

“I do not know of any elfling, who has attended Haldir’s school, to emerge unchanged by the experience,” Glorfindel said. “Limnoreia seems very happy with him.”

 

“He might be nicer to ellith,” Mel shrugged.

There was nothing for it. I would ask Limnoreia if her husband was Bainon. Making my way across the room, I could see her talking to Erviniae and Aglarien about how lovely Lindir’s singing was. I joined in the conversation.

“Congratulations,” I said, and then blessed them with a big beaming smile. “Have you shown your husbands your awards yet?” Out of pure malice, I added that it was a shame that Erviniae and Aglarien had to share their award.

“We are hoping to win the, ‘Sexiest Ellon in Middle-earth’ category,” Erviniae said with a smug smile.

 

“To win that you would have to change gender, sweet ones,” I laughed.

 

“No, silly elf,” Aglarien said and whacked me on the arm. “The sexiest ellon is judged by how hot the characters in the story are, not by how they actually look.”

“I bet Glorfindel wins,” I laughed. I hoped he would win because I had a bet riding on him doing so. “That should please Mel.”

 

“According to the criteria, even you have a chance of winning,” Erviniae said, giving me a sarcastic smile.

 

“An outside chance,” Aglarien giggled.

“I do not have to stand for this,” I replied, making out that I was affronted.

 

“Well sit down then,” the two minxes said in unison, before erupting into peals of laughter.

 

I turned to the wide-eyed Limnoreia, who stood beside me and grinned. “What am I to do with these two dreadfully naughty ellith?”

“I do not know, Sire,” she said shyly; quite unlike how she acted on stage.

 

“Please call me Ereolas.” I kissed her hand and smiled, while looking into her eyes.

 

She smiled and turned a rather pretty shade of red, which deepened when Erviniae told her to beware because I obviously wanted to take her to bed. My face became sternand both  ellith stopped laughing. “Take care not to go too far.” Círdan was listening through our connection and crowed that here was an example of familiarity breeding contempt, and how he had told me many times about being more formal. Through our connection, I told him to be quiet or do the rest of the awards himself; he was the one who volunteered me, after all.

Erviniae and Aglarien both apologised. I stopped a passing waiter and took four glasses of wine from the tray he was holding. “Let us all toast your success, dear Ladies.” We clinked our glasses together, said the appropriate words, and then sipped our wine. The previous minor unpleasantness was forgotten, and Aglarien told me the joke about the myopic camel who humped a small hill, thinking that it was a long lost lover.

“I wish you had told me that one before the ceremony,” I said grinning. “I went totally dry and had to make something up about Glorfindel wearing a dress. I expect I will be in trouble later on.”

 

“So, it was not true?” Limnoreia asked.

 

“Not a word of it,” I replied.

 

“I am still going to write about it,” Aglarien said.

“We could have, ‘Glorfindel wearing a dress’ category next year,” Erviniae suggested.

 

“Yes, let’s,” I beamed. “If you do, I want to be there when it is announced. Has anything been said about where it is to be held next year?”

 

“We are sending requests to different realms when this is all over,” Erviniae informed me. “We were refused by everyone this year, except by you and Lord Círdan .”

“I supposed travel is a factor in attending,” I mused. “Did you have to come far, Limnoreia?”

 

“I came from Lothlórien,” she smiled. “I live there with my husband, Bainon, and our two elflings.”

“Really?” I asked looking terribly interested, which I was. “I remember him slightly from when I visited Imladris once. How is he and what has he been up to?”

 

“Well, I don’t know if you are aware, but he went to Haldir’s School for Recalcitrant Elflings, which is where I met him. I did not like him at first, as he was a rather horrid elfling, but he became much nicer as time went on. When he left, he joined the Galadhrim and it was on a visit back to the school that I saw him again.”

 

“Was it love at first sight?” I asked with a conspiratorial smile, whilst wondering how such a sweet and polite elleth could have been attending Haldir’s school.

“He was perfection, and I found myself falling for him very quickly,” she blushed. “In the end we married and had two elflings.”

 

I knew how the Galadhrim were sent on long patrols and missions, and so I asked her if her nana was looking after the elflings. She replied that Bainon was caring for them.

“So he has some time off? How convenient for you. Otherwise, we would not have seen you and that would have been our loss.” Erviniae said smiling. How sweet of her to say that when we could all feel how the conversation was proceeding.

 

“He works in Haldir’s school as a teacher now. He lost most of his sword arm in an orc attack,” Limnoreia sighed. “Silly elf, he thought that I would not love him anymore.”

 

“I am so sorry to hear that,” I said. Truly I was. “I am glad that Haldir was able to help. He is a good elf.”

 

“He saved us,” Limnoreia said. “Without his help, we would have starved. We are all right now though, and Bainon is finding it a bit easier now that he has learned to write with his other hand.” She giggled. “I still have to cut his meat up for him.”

She was telling the truth. Lothlórien is perhaps the harshest realm for a warrior who becomes injured or victim to unfortunate circumstance. In Mirkwood, and to a much lesser degree Imladris, they help warriors get back on their feet, and have schemes to help the unfortunate in times of distress. Círdan and I are introducing similar measures here in Mithlond, although they have existed here in an informal way for centuries. Galadriel never saw the need to help those who had fallen while serving her, or even help their families. She maintained that if it was the will of the Valar, then so be it. On the other hand, her subjects do not pay tax. Still, it is no wonder that we see a disproportionate amount of elves from Lothlórien sailing to Valinor.

I did not feel like telling Mel, because I wanted him not to gloat and knew he would do just that. I remember Bainon bullying me. I also remember the punishment that Ada Erestor had  meted out to his ada for failing to control his ion’s behaviour. It turned out that his ada was really his brother and as much a victim of the evil elfling asanyone. If  Bainon had been sent anywhere but Haldir’s school, I would have been very surprised to hear that he had changed. What goes around comes around, and Bainon had certainly paid for all that he had done in his past. It was not fair that his wife and elflings had to suffer as well, but that is the way of life and not all is just.

“It is difficult when things like that happen,” I said. “I hope Bainon continues to improve, it must have been very hard for you all.”

“It was hard but I always think that at least I have my husband alive; he could so easily have been killed. It could have been far worse.” Limnoreia smiled at me. “He will be so thrilled that I won an award. I cannot wait to see him again, he will be so happy for me. I cannot wait to tell him that I kissed Prince Melpomaen and Lord Glorfindel.” She grinned and confided in us that she had the biggest crush on Glorfindel when she was younger, and he still managed to make her insides flutter.

“We are all very happy for you,” Aglarien said to Limnoreia and added that she had especially enjoyed her story.

“I do not think there is an elleth alive who has not had a crush on Glorfindel,” Erviniae grinned. “Although, when Agie and I were tiny, King Oropher used to visit Lord Círdan on quite a frequent basis.” She waggled her eyebrows, causing Limnoreia to grin and me to laugh. “We had the greatest of crushes on him too.”

“We soon saw sense though,” Aglarien laughed and whacked me again on the arm. I poked my tongue out at her.

Limnoreia looked a bit confused and so Erviniae told her that I was Oropher in my former life. “Look,” she said, pointing upwards. “Círdan had him painted onto the ceiling after he died in the last battle.”

 

“Oh yes! It is you,” Limnoreia said and grinned.

 

We carried on talking and exchanging pleasantries and saucy jibes until a servant rang the half hour bell, signifying that we all had to go back into the Hall of Thrones.

 

I sat beside Círdan who told me to be careful how I told Mel, so that he would feel only compassion for his old enemy. “We will arrange for them to be helped, so that Bainon does not know it comes from us,” Muffy said to me. “I do not want to risk him refusing it. After all, we do not know if he still carries any enmity around for us. It is not right that one who has fought in the defence of a realm should be in such straightened circumstances, and it is even more unfair on his family.”

“I was hoping we would.” I kissed the back of Muffy’s fingers, while batting my lashes at him. He gave me the most smouldering look and whispered that he loved me.

 

I am so happy. My wonderful husband used to think like Galadriel, as all leaders did long ago. Now he is able to open his heart and love his fellow elf, he is even more beloved because of it. We all change, even me. I like to think that I am a better person than the king I was long ago, and yet I still have a special place in my heart for who I once was.

 

I stood up and the room went quiet. I told Aglarien’s camel joke and attributed it to her, as one should. The audience tittered politely and I became acutely aware that they had all heard it before. I redeemed myself by telling the audience about how Erviniae and Aglarien, when tiny elflings, had put a ribbon barrier up in the corridor leading to one of the wings during one of my visits to Círdan . ‘Caution, building falling down. Do not go any further or else you could get killed to death or something’ was written on a large sheet of paper in elfling scrawl and suspended over the ribbon. They hid behind a statue and everyone could hear them giggling. My rooms were beyond, so I untied the pink ribbon and walked over to the statue.

Two tiny elfling faces looked up at me. “My sweet little Ladies,” I said as I gathered them up in my arms. “How lucky you are that I am here to rescue you from the falling down building.”

 

“Why don’t you sit behind the statue with us and then we can laugh at all the elves who cannot get back to their rooms,” Aglarien suggested. “It isn’t really falling down.”

“Yes, why don’t you?” Erviniae asked, eager for me to join in their game.

 

“I think Círdan might smack all our bottoms if we did that,” I replied, grinning at them. “Why don’t we go to the tea rooms and have some cake instead?”

I was terribly popular for the rest of the stay and ended up taking them to tea quite a few times. I am glad I did, because when I arrived back in Mithlond as Ereolas, they remembered me from when I was once Oropher. For a long time they were my only true friends.

 

I still think they are minxes though.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Part 77 – The Slash Awards – part five – The Finale!**

 

 

 

I was about to introduce Lindir when he asked me to carry on without him. The dancer had argued with her partner and flounced off. “I do not have a back up,” he said looking worried. “I am sorry, but she is such a prima donna, an absolute drama queen if you ask me. I told Gildor that she could not be relied upon but he would not listen.”

The irony was not lost on me. I replied that it was perfectly all right and suggested that he should refresh himself with a drink in the Hall of Crystal Thrones. He seemed extremely grateful and left after waving to Mel and telling him that he would see him later.

 

I gave a big smile to the audience. “The award for the most unlikely pairing goes to Daeomae for her wonderful story, “Tom Bombadil, the Keeper of my Heart, by Sauron, Lord of Darkness.”

 

Daeomae wrote the most screamingly funny story. The story was told from Sauron’s perspective and he is indeed a master of the purple prose. The dear lady came up to the stage, waving her hands in the air and jumping up and down with joy. She hugged and kissed me and then proceeded to do the same to Mel and Glorfindel, who gave her the glass award with her name on it.

 

“I am so happy to have won and it is so unexpected. I got an award, I got an award…,” she sang happily, jumping up and down, and then thanked everyone who had helped her get this far.

 

“Where did you get your inspiration for such an unusual pairing?” I asked, smiling along with her.

 

“Their biographies were next to one another in the library,” she cooed. Daeomae worked as a pastry chef in the Mithlond kitchens. The library she would have used was here, and I wondered if misfiling of books was a good excuse for whipping the chief librarian, who I hated. He had been very rude to me about my love of etiquette books on many occasions, and became even more so when I fell pregnant. After giving birth to Cireolas, I was not very strong and had to order my personal servant to whip him when I could tolerate his insolence no more. After fifty years of his supercilious rudeness, he paid for his nasty jibes. Círdan said that I should have done it long before, but I never felt accepted and did not want to turn everyone against me. I am glad that I am not a weakling anymore. The librarian nearly crapped his loincloth when he saw me in my new form. I was most gratified by his reaction.

However, once again I digress. It is easy to do. The ever sweet and lovely Daeomae went to the side of the stage and took a box from an ellon, whom I recognised as her husband; he is a teacher in the warrior training school, and a very good one at that.

“My Lord,” she smiled shyly. “I have a present for you and your ion, Cireolas, from the kitchen staff.”

I opened the box and inside was a large trifle with our names piped in chocolate cream. Yummy! “I love trifle so much that I do not think there will be any left for Cireolas,” I joked. “Thank you so much, dear Lady,” I said as I kissed her hand.

I am so pleased that an elleth from Mithlond won. Because her story was so funny, I wondered if she would like to try her hand at more writing because storytellers and writers are always in demand here.

Daeomae left the stage to wild applause, especially from the Mithlond contingent of ellith. She did very well and I am glad she won, as she has the most remarkable sense of humour. It was time to tell another amusing story, and so I waited for the audience to settle down.

I told the story of how a small black cat, was mistaken by my brother Mel, for the meat locker monster that was, apparently, stealing joints of meat and killing elflings in the kitchens of Imladris. Glorfindel had told him that as a joke, never expecting him to take it seriously. It caused no end of outrage to the elleth who owned the black cat, and she complained most bitterly to Elrond when my brother told her how evil her pet was, and that she should kill it. In the end, Glorfindel had to admit that it was a joke, but by then the elleth had written a free pamphlet about the nasty little elfling living in the next corridor, who wanted to hurt poor, sweet, innocent kittens. The whole room rocked with laughter and it was time to announce the next award.

“The Mystery Story Award goes to Fimbrethiel for her story, ‘Glorfindel the Vampire’.” I smiled at the dear Lady as she proceeded up to the stage.

 

The story was about Glorfindel killing elves at night, in his vampire form, whilst investigating their murders, in his official capacity of detective, during the day. His fellow investigator and occasional lover, Erestor, became suspicious after finding a handkerchief belonging to one of the victims in Glorfindel’s over-shirt pocket. They had just had sex. He followed Glorfindel to the next murder with a cohort of undercover guards and they caught him while he was killing his next victim. Glorfindel killed the guards by ripping their throats out with his pointed teeth. His downfall was that he could not kill Erestor because he loved him. Anyone notice an Erestor/Glorfindel theme going on here? I think my ada was right to hightail it off into the countryside for the day. Anyway, it was a jolly good story; you could have heard a pin drop in the audience.

 

Fimbrethiel was hugged and kissed by Mel and Glorfindel, who gave her the piece of glass with her name on. My brother-in-law jokingly showed her that his teeth were not pointed, then she came over and kissed me on the cheek. Clutching her glass award and smiling widely, the dear, sweet lady proceeded to make a very short speech about how grateful she was to win first place in the Mystery category, and thanked all who voted for her. Short and sweet, and to the point. I wish all the Ladies could have been like her.

 

The next category made me giggle. It was titled, ‘The Sexiest Ellyn in Middle-earth Award’. I knew Glorfindel would get it, and the Ladies Erviniae and Aglarien had made it quite clear that they were going to win. Presumably they thought their story had the hottest characters in it.

I was not able to announce the result until Tena gave me an envelope with the name and story title inside. This was a closely guarded secret, because all had their favourite elves whom they thought should win. I explained that the sexiest ellyn were not judged by looks, but how the author had written their performance in the bedroom.

“The winner of the final story in the Mithlond Slash Awards is the Lady Celebrían, with a story titled, ‘Milk time’.” It was with much trepidation that I read the next bit out, hoping that the milk reference did not apply to me, but suspecting strongly that it did. I unfolded the rest of the sheet. “The sexiest ellyn on Middle-earth, as written down and judged by their performance in the story, are The Lord Círdan and Prince Ereolas…” I was shocked, even though I half expected it after reading the word milk. I turned to Círdan and said, “That’s us.”

The audience went crazy with their applause. Glorfindel looked as if someone had stolen his sweets, and Elrond seemed puzzled that his wife would think anyone other than he could be sexy. Erviniae and Aglarien looked mystified, presumably because they did not win. Celebrían came up on to the stage and hugged me. She went over to Mel and Glorfindel, and hugged and kissed them before returning to me with her bit of glass and giving me a huge kiss on the cheek. Her face was flushed and her eyes shining, as she stood facing the audience. I went to sit down because she was about to tell the story.

‘Milk Time’, was about the hottest sex scene ever to be written. It reminded me of the time Círdan sucked milk from me and smeared it in my hair and all over my body, whilst fucking the very life out of me. It was as though Celebrían had been in the room with us, and I said this to Círdan through our connection.

“There is only so much one can do with milk,” Círdan replied. “I am not surprised she is so near to the truth.”

“Tonight, I want to re-enact the story,” I said, drooling at the thought.

 

“I thought you said that you were too tired?”

 

“I am never too tired for you.” I licked my lips, like the slapper I am.

 

We carried on like that until Celebrían had finished, and then I rose to walk across the stage to her. I was so glad I was wearing a loose robe. The story, along with Círdan’s teasing, had me as hard as a rock. She motioned to Círdan to come to the centre of the stage as well.

“On behalf the, ‘Slash Writing Ladies of Middle-earth’, we thank you for your generous hospitality and for agreeing to host the very first slash awards ever. Without your cooperation and benevolence, these awards could not have taken place. Therefore, we would like to thank you for setting the ball rolling with a small token of our appreciation.” Celebrían smiled, and I held Círdan’s arm as we watched several ellith making their way to the front.

We were presented with a large display stand of flowers. A medium sized, framed drawing of, ‘The Two Sexiest Ellyn in Middle-earth’; a bound copy of all the stories submitted to the contest; a bound copy of artwork especially commissioned to illustrate the stories, with a special section devoted to, ‘Milk Time’, and a silver commemorative ornament of two elves in a passionate embrace. Below was a small engraving commemorating the Mithlond slash awards, naming all the participants and winners.

 

Finally, a large teddy bear was brought up onto the stage. Across its chest was emblazoned, ‘Legolas Teddy’. “This is for Cireolas,” Celebrían said.

Behind the stage, the door opened and the crèche worker, who was to be my elfling’s new nanny, brought my little ion in. He is still unsteady on his feet, so she held onto him as he attempted to put his arms around the huge bear. “It my teddy,” he squealed with joy.

“We have two final presents,” Celebrían said and handed me two boxes. “These are for your babies when they are born.” I opened the top one and there was a white sleep suit made of some fleecy, woolly material. On the back was embroidered, ‘Slash Baby’ in purple silk. Círdan opened the bottom box and there was a pink sleep suit with the same embroidery on the back, but this time in green. They are never wearing them.

Mel and Glorfindel were presented with a bound copy of the stories and a painting of the second hottest ellyth couple in Middle-earth, which of course was of them. They seemed pleased. I was very happy that we agreed to host the awards. The whole event had been most enjoyable, even the embarrassing bits.

We all made our way to the Hall of Crystal Thrones. There was much hugging and kissing throughout the evening, and for once Cireolas was very well behaved. It was a wonderful after-the-awards party and the highlight of the social year. I would not be surprised if the realms that refused them this year open their doors willingly for them in the future.

We went to bed that night, exhausted. I put Cireolas in his cot and kissed him goodnight. His big, blue eyes shut almost immediately.

“Come here, sexiest ellon on Middle-earth,” Círdan said as he lay on the bed with nothing on. “It’s milk time.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Part 78 – The Morning After**

 

The morning after the slash awards saw me exhausted. I awoke in Círdan’s arms. He was already awake and looking at my face, which is somewhat disconcerting when first opening one’s eyes.

 

“You did so well,” he murmured. “I was so proud of you. I still am actually.”

 

“I am so tired.”

 

“We have to show our faces at breakfast, but afterwards we can have a relaxing day.” Muffy stroked my face and kissed me lightly on the lips. “I will look after Cireolas and you can have a bath and then go back to bed.”

“He will want feeding when he wakes up.”

 

“I have an idea. If I run a bath now, we can all get in and you can feed our little squirt at the same time.”

 

“I want you to hold me instead.” Círdan was bed-warm and smelt sweet and musky. I did not want to let him go. “Hold me in your arms you big, sexy muffin,” I grinned and watched him as he laughed. “I am half way through my pregnancy and I feel like being spoilt.”

“You deserve spoiling even when you are not pregnant,” Muffy replied as he stroked my face and ran his fingers through my hair. “You are the only one I could ever love.”

 

“I love you.” My finger skimmed across his lips. “You are truly the most lovely and wonderful elf alive.”

 

“No, that is you, melethen,” Círdan said as he kissed my fingers with his beautiful pink lips. “I adore the very ground you walk upon. No elf compares to you.”

“You compare to me,” I said softly, and gave my love the sweetest of kisses.

 

How I love him. He is the sunlight, illuminating my life and being. Without him, I am nothing, and this I freely admit. He will always be great in my eyes. Never will there be one before him. Whenever he touches me, even if only to hold my hand, I shiver with delight. He touches the very core of my being. I love him so much that it is almost painful. Such is the reality of being bound to one’s soulmate, and it is the most wonderful state of being. I could wish for no better existence.

 

Círdan held me a little bit closer and stroked the back of my head with his fingers, touching the scalp so that small thrills of sensation shivered through me. “I can see our love in your eyes,” he smiled and then leant in for a kiss, which deepened as we held onto one another with increasing intensity.

“More…” I breathed and he deepened the kiss so that it became almost painful.

 

“I cannot leave you alone,” Muffy said urgently, and took both our arousals in hand, as he kissed me again.

 

My hands stroked along his body and with his free hand, he gathered up my hair and pulled it, causing me to groan as the goosebumps rose on my skin. He breathed in sharply as I squeeze a nipple and dug my fingers into one of his strong muscled cheeks down below. “Valar, you undo me,” he said urgently and his hand speeded up, causing us both to breathe harder until that magical point of no return, where we both came intensely, but quietly, ever mindful of the elfling sleeping at the far end of the bedroom, secreted behind an alcove. We did not want to wake Cireolas, as we came down from our bliss. We listened to make sure that he was not calling for us, and then smiled, able to enjoy each other’s closeness for a little while longer.

“How I love you.” I said quietly to the one I adored.

 

I lay in my lover’s arms and he placed the occasional kiss on the top of my head. “You make everything worth living for,” he said, while lazily playing with the ring through my nipple. “There is no one but you in my heart. You are the one that I adore forever.”

 

It is good to be so loved, and it is even better to be able to give that love and have it received in equal measure. My favourite time is when we are in bed and with one another. Nothing else exists when we are that close.

 

Cireolas awoke and called us.

 

“I will get him.” Círdan smiled and stroked my cheek, before putting his loincloth on to walk across the vast expanse of floor space in our bedroom. Very soon, my little one was plugged on and drinking from me. My wonderful and caring husband sat behind us, so that I could lean against his chest and he can support Cireolas underneath. Círdan is concerned that I may strain myself, so he holds our little ion most of the time now. I am not going to argue with him on that point, as all three of us revel in the closeness.

 

My little one finished drinking and announced that he wanted some trifle. “Cireolas,” Círdan said warningly. “We ask. We do not demand.”

 

Looking up with big blue eyes he said, “Trifle for Cirrus now.”

 

Círdan was not impressed with his giggling, but I could not help smiling. Cireolas finds it difficult to say his own name and he deliberately teases Muffy by demanding trifle. “In the bath, I think.” Círdan took our ion from me. “Stay in bed until the bath is run, meleth.”

I did not need to be told twice. I fell into a shallow sleep, and it was not long before I was shaken out of my slumber by a giggling elfling and my only one. “Ada, bath time. You get clean now. Come, come, play with toys.” Círdan sat on the side of the bed and encouraged Cireolas to tap my shoulder.

 

I put my loincloth on, while in the bed, and then walked to the bathroom. Neither Círdan nor I like to appear fully nude in front of Cireolas, although I have heard that some parents see nothing wrong in this. Maybe we are old fashioned, but I believe that one knows inherently what is right and what is not for one’s own elfling. The bath was hot and there were millions of bubbles. I laid back and relaxed.

 

“Want say hello to babies,” Cireolas said as he launches himself towards me. He listened with his ear to my belly, rapt with attention. “Hello babies,” he called through the skin. “I am in bath, playing with Adas.”

 

“In the bath eh?” my unborn iell’s voice was heard from deep inside me.

 

“Yes,” Cireolas looked delighted. “Ada, she talk to me.”

 

“Well, I was asleep and now you have woken me up,” Ereodan’s voice piped up.

 

“I sorry,” Cireolas said with a huge grin.

 

“I expect they are really happy that their big brother is talking to them,” I said to Cireolas, who nodded happily. “Aren’t you?” I used a warning tone so they would be nice.

 

“Yes, I am ecstatic,” Ereodan said in a very unenthusiastic voice.

 

“He is not very grammatically correct when he speaks, is he?” I heard my little iell muttering to her unborn brother. Then in a louder voice, she shouted out, “Hello Cireolas.”

 

My little boy was so happy that his unborn sister said hello to him. “She nice,” he said. “I got duck.” He held the toy to my belly, as if to show her.

 

“Oh, joy.” I see that Ereinion had lost none of his ability in sarcasm.

 

“It nice duck,” Cireolas said unaware that Ereodan was being a little git. “We play with duck when you born.”

 

“I see that I have much to look forward to,” Ereodan muttered. My little iell shouted that she wanted to play with a pink duck.

 

“We get pink duck,” Cireolas said through my belly. “We get pink duck for you.”

 

“Thank you,” her little baby voice came from within.

 

Cireolas looked up and grinned. “We get pink duck?” I smiled, and said that we would.

 

“Hair wash time,” Círdan said. He took our baby from me. I am glad he did because an argument of major proportions broke out in my belly. Ereodan accused his sister of encouraging, ‘the congenital idiot’, and she let loose a barrage of swear words that would make a sailor blush. In the end, they stopped arguing and went very quiet, each of them vowing never to talk to the other again. They do this nearly every day, so I was not concerned.

 

We went to breakfast and found that very few elves were actually there. It would be no surprise if I found out that every one of the partygoers was sleeping off a major hangover. No one can say we are less than generous hosts.

 

Erestor and Legolas walked into the breakfast hall; I was halfway through my second plate of bacon, eggs, tomatoes, mushrooms and beans.

 

“Did you have a nice trip?” Círdan asked, as Legolas picked Cireolas up from his lap.

 

“It was wonderful,” Legolas smiled.

 

Erestor sat closer to Ada Legolas than is strictly acceptable in public and smiled while stroking Cireolas’ head. “We had a wonderful time,” he replied. “We should go off on our own, more often.”

 

Both looked relaxed and happy. I could not stop yawning. “Partied a bit too hard last night, by any chance?” Erestor smirked.

 

“Erestor do not be so insensitive.” Legolas grinned. “When I was pregnant I slept loads. Remember the journey to Imladris? You lectured me about falling asleep on my horse.”

 

“Yes.” Erestor narrowed his eyes and smiled. “You burst into tears and made me feel an utter swine.”

 

“Ah! The wily ways of the pregnant ellon,” Legolas joked.

 

“Hush, do not let Círdan know that I am wily!” I laughed before yawning again. I really could not help myself. It was not a wide-open mouth yawn, as I observe etiquette, but rather a stifled one, guaranteed to deceive.

 

It fooled no one. “Come on,” Círdan said. “Back to bed with you. You have had hardly any sleep at all.”

 

Cireolas looked up. “I got Leggas Teddy,” he said.

 

“Say Leg-o-las,” Erestor said.

 

Cireolas tried but not very successfully. Círdan went to lift him from Legolas’ lap and we heard the words that every parent loves to hear.

 

“We will keep Cireolas until after lunch, if that is all right.” Bless you, Ada Erestor. It is always all right. Now I can go back to bed and so can Círdan . He looks tired too.

 

I hope I get some sleep!

 

 

 

**Part 79 – In Círdan’s arms**

 

 

Galadriel came to our room in tears at some unearthly hour during the night. I was snugly ensconced, in my wonderful husband’s arms and did not appreciate having to move. We tried to ignore her; however, rather than let our apartment endure structural damage, Círdan answered the door, while I put a lounging robe on.

 

“Everybody hates me,” she cried, as Círdan stood sleepily in his loincloth.

 

“Well that is because you have been acting like an unfeeling bitch,” my wonderful Muffy said matter-of-factly. “Can I go back to bed now? I have a pregnant husband who needs looking after. When I am away from him I can hardly do that, can I?”

 

She looked at Muffy as though he was a silver piece short of a gold one. “What in Middle-earth are you talking about?” she said. “He is only pregnant. It is not as if he is ill. He is only having a baby. My problems are far worse.”

 

“He is delicate and needs cosseting,” Círdan said firmly. “Besides, he is having twins. Not one baby, but two.”

 

“Oropher is delicate?” Galadriel said in the most disbelieving voice. “It is not like he is still Ereolas, is it? He has Oropher’s old body, which was far from delicate, from what I remember.”

 

“I do not wish to know,” Círdan said firmly. “You have upset just about everyone you have come into contact with and I refuse to let you upset my husband too. Now go back to your room.”

 

“But Elrond and Celebrían are not talking to me anymore,” Galadriel cried, in a desperate attempt to make Círdan listen to her.

 

“Are you surprised?” he answered with more than a tinge of irritation in his voice.

 

“Well yes I am actually.” She edged her way into the living room as I walked in through the bedroom door. “Oh! Hello Ereolas, are you feeling all right?”

 

“What do you want?” I mumbled sleepily as I sat down on the sofa. I put my feet up and wedged a cushion behind my back. Círdan shot into the bedroom and brought a thick blanket out. He draped it over my lower body and told me not to let myself become cold. I am so spoilt and it feels wonderful.

 

Galadriel put her hand on my belly, over the covers, and did it without asking me. “Forgive me,” she said. Her face fell.

 

“Tell no one,” I ordered. “I would wish them the same advantages as any other elflings and do not want them harassed because of who they once were.”

 

“I wonder what it means,” she said, looking at me, as if I might have the answer.

 

“Who understands the caprices of the Valar, except that they are most inconvenient?” I replied. “Now tell me why you are upset.”

 

“Make it quick,” Muffy said to her. “Ereolas needs his sleep.”

 

I smiled at him and he glowed with love. Sitting beside me, he put his arm around my waist and kissed the side of my head.

 

“I honestly thought that Elrond would have been over his brother by now. I thought that he would have found it amusing that I made them lovers.” Galadriel picked a piece of fluff off her dress and deposited it on the large carpet we imported from Khand. Círdan raised a disapproving eyebrow and she hurriedly picked it up. “After all, he is quite intolerant when I talk about how I miss my brothers and my cousins. He says that I should be over it and that most of them were no loss.”

 

“Why would he say that?” Círdan asked.

 

“Because we all followed Fëanor. That is why. Honestly Círdan , you are not very bright, are you?” she said as though Círdan was a halfwit. “He says that it is because of my family, that there is so much discord on Middle-earth, and I each time he says that, I reply that he forgets the influence of Melkor.”

 

“Well what does he say to that?” I asked, hoping that my voice expressed my annoyance at being involved in her family problems.

 

“He says that I have an answer for everything.”

 

“And so you wrote a nasty fic about him and Elros to get him back?” I asked, feeling that their occasional arguments did not mean that she was right to wound him in public.

 

“He has been very critical of me and Celeborn parting. He thinks that events in the future will mean that I have to go back to Lothlórien and not dare leave, ever again.” She paused, gave a large sneeze, and then continued. “He seems to think that I can only rule with Celeborn there, and as his wife. I have no problem with ruling jointly with my ex-husband, but Elrond thinks that our reign will be less effective.”

 

“Well, is it any of Elrond’s business?” I could not see where the argument was leading, or even the reasons behind it; moreover, I did not care.

 

“He thinks that Celeborn and I will both skip off with our respective partners and leave Lothlórien to its fate, so that he has to send Celebrían to take over while he stays in Imladris. As if either of us would do that.” Galadriel was becoming angry. “He might be the wisest elf in Middle-earth, but to me he is a …”

 

“That’s enough,” Círdan snapped in annoyance. “You need to go back to Lothlórien and rule, so he realises that his fears are groundless. All you are doing at the moment is confirming them. Acting like a child, seeking pointless revenge, will not solve anything.”

 

“I am not acting like a child,” Galadriel cried, her voice thick with emotion. “Celeborn is back in Lothlórien at the moment. He suggested that Saelbeth and I have a holiday, so that we can have some private time together. All I get off Elrond is that I am not fulfilling my duties properly. It has been hundreds of years since I had a proper holiday. How can he be so selfish?”

 

“Because he has not had a holiday either, since marrying Celebrían?” I suggested.

 

“That is hardly my fault,” Galadriel said resolutely. “It is a bit much that I cannot do what I want occasionally, without someone poking their nose into mine and Celeborn’s affairs.”

 

“We have a small, fifteen bedroom cottage on the coast in Harlindon,” Círdan said and looked at me to see if I agreed with his next proposal. I nodded. “You and Saelbeth can borrow it for a month. If you do, then I want you to promise that you will go back to Lothlórien and stay there until all of this blows over.”

 

Galadriel smiled and then threw herself forward to wrap her huge muscled arms around my neck and give me a big kiss on the cheek. “Done!” She stood up. “I cannot wait to tell Saelbeth. Thank you very much.”

 

“We will talk to Elrond.” Círdan saw Galadriel to the door. She thanked him several times and blew me a kiss before running off to tell her betrothed the good news.

 

Muffy shut the door and turned around as I threw back the covers. “Stay there,” he ordered. He came over, slipped one arm around my shoulders and the other under my legs, and then he picked me up. “Let us go back to bed now, meleth.”

 

“I can walk.” I laughed. “I am not helpless.”

 

“Yes, I know,” he said and shrugged. “What can I say? I love taking care of you, that’s all.”

 

He placed me on the bed, and I pulled him in for a kiss before he settled down beside me. We pulled the covers up and I lay in his arms again. There is no finer, more comfortable place to be.

 

“I love you so much.” Muffy kissed my forehead. “I am glad that we do not have silly disagreements all the time.”

 

I smiled with the widest grin, “I love you too. Mmm…” I snuggled into my warm-skinned husband. “I wish Galadriel had not come along, because it meant that I could not be sleeping in your arms until she had gone away. I miss your arms when they are not around me.”

 

Muffy held me a fraction closer and kissed my lips, “I know, meleth,” he said. “The bad queen has left and now I can get back to the most important thing of all, which is holding my beautiful husband, so that he feels incredibly loved and adored.” He kissed my lips several times, as he said it.

 

“I love you holding me,” I breathed, as I tried to snuggle closer. My cheek lay against his neck and I smiled happily.

 

“Close your eyes and try to sleep,” Círdan drew the covers around my shoulders to keep out any draughts.

 

I did as I was told and listened to the twin heartbeats of our unborn elflings as I fell asleep. We awoke in the same position, with the light of Anor streaming in through the windows. Today the slash ladies would be going home and then we could look forward to a period of peace.

 

It has been fun, but I love these quiet times with my husband, and unfortunately they have been few and far between of late. Still, we have plenty of time to make up for it and that is what we will do.

 

For now though, it is sleepy time and that is what I shall do. Mmm… I am snug in Círdan’s arms.

 

Life does not get any better.


	31. Part 80 – The Wobbly Table. Part 81 – The Downfall of the Idle Rich – a Workable Plan. Part 82 – Playing With Milk. Part 83 – The Battle in the Breakfast Hall. Part 84 – The Aftermath.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The idle rich have pushed Ereolas too far and he takes his revenge. He finds there is no such thing as an easy victory.

**Part 80 – The Wobbly Table**  

 

 

We spent yesterday waving goodbye to the Slash Ladies of the various realms. I was tired, and so it was a relief to see them go, even though the whole week of the awards was most enjoyable. Angaráto, our seneschal, has advised us that the Ladies accommodation has suffered some vandalism to the furnishings, paintings, and windows. He estimates that it will cost quite a few gold pieces to put right. Happily, we are incredibly rich, and so we can absorb the cost, but one would think that highborn Ladies would not be so cavalier when staying in other elves’ royal palaces. After all, I would not dream of acting in such a way, so neither should they.

 

Queen Nenuial and her retinue departed for Harlindon, accompanied by Galdor, Galadriel, and Saelbeth. We arrived back from the docks at midday. In the lunch hall, Cireolas announced that being a prince was his birthright. He told us this while loudly demanding trifle; obviously, he has been talking to his uncle Mel again. I am happy to say that his new nanny was very firm with him and made him eat stewed apples instead of trifle, for being so rude. Maybe she will be more successful than us in controlling his behaviour, but if she is not then I am sure she will have tried her hardest; he is a rather difficult baby.

 

Elrond and Celebrían are still with us, but I never really thought of either of them as Slash Ladies - even though Elrond carved ‘Galadriel is an insensitive b...’ on his bedroom wall, in big letters. He ran out of gouging space, so we will never know what the last word was going to be. He is rather shamefaced about it, and, not surprisingly, he does not want to discuss the matter. He gave our seneschal some gold pieces to pay for the damage and thinks that is an end to the matter. Mel does not think so and neither do I; however, I am generous enough not to mention it anymore, or to be a badly behaved guest when we visit Imladris.

 

My adas are still here and so are Mel and Glorfindel, who will stay until we travel to Imladris. They are swiftly pulling our warriors up to scratch, and we are more than pleased with the progress. Elladan and Elrohir continue to oversee the new healing block, which is now complete and in the process of being equipped. It should be a showplace of healing, as Elrond once described it, when completely finished. Call me old-fashioned, but I really only trust Elrond and Saelir when it comes to healing. Both offered to send some of their staff to train the elves here. They will arrive in a couple of months.

 

Elrond went to inspect the healing halls with his ionen, and Círdan went to a meeting with his Captain of the Guard to sort through the next year’s financial projections. I do not have to go because Círdan has decided that boredom is bad for me, simply because I am pregnant. He has some funny ideas, but most of them come from him wanting to take care of me. I am particularly grateful for this one; I hate the financial meetings with a passion. Celebrían and I had nothing to do, and so we went for a walk by the river, where we saw the Lady Erviniae sitting on a bench, reading a book of baby names.

 

“Hello Ervy,” I said as we sat beside her.

 

“Oh! Hello Ereolas, Lady Celebrían,” she smiled. “I am just reading a book of baby names. Silimaurë and I cannot agree on names at all.”

 

“You could put both your names together and come up with something,” Celebrían suggested.

 

“Silimaurë wants us to call her Silvinae,” Erviniae said. “I am not sure myself.”

 

“It sounds a lovely name,” Celebrían said. “Elrond wants to call our next baby Arwen, when we have one.” She pulled a face.

 

“Poor you,” I said. “What has got into his head?”

 

“I picked the twins names,” Celebrían replied. “So I have no choice. He gets to name our next elfling, if we have one.”

 

“I did not think that he wanted another one.” I was surprised; Elrond always protested louder than anyone that he did not want any more elflings.

 

“He finds Cireolas the sweetest baby in Middle-earth,” Celebrían said. “When he started talking to him, he was enchanted.”

 

“Cireolas must have been very well-behaved when he was with him,” Erviniae said in disbelief.

 

“I think he sees Cireolas as a challenge; he is no worse than Mel was when he was an elfling.” Celebrían chuckled. “Mel was a little terror right from the moment he was born.”

 

“I bet Ereolas was naughty too.” Erviniae grinned and poked her tongue out at me.

 

“No, he was very well-behaved, except that he used to terrorise everyone with etiquette. Only Thranduil would sit next to him at dinner when he lived in Mirkwood.” Celebrían poked me in the side. “Do you remember Mel eating with his mouth open, just to annoy you?”

 

I grinned. I remembered telling Mel about his horrid eating habits many times at the table.  “Shall we go for afternoon tea?” I asked.

 

We trooped into the tearooms and sat at a window table, which gave a fine view of the lake and waterfall. Swans floated serenely on the lake. In the foreground, near the rockery in the middle of the lawn, where an ornamental fountain played, a line of small ducklings followed their mother and splashed one by one into the water. For a fleeting moment I envied her having such obedient children; I doubted mine would ever be so.

 

“Excuse me,” Erviniae said. “I have to go to the little maiden’s room.”  I stood up, as an ellon does when a lady leaves the table, and then sat down again when she had departed.

 

“This table is a bit wobbly,” Celebrían said and she shook it about. A small amount of milk spilt on the floor. “See, told you so,” she grinned.

 

“I hate dodgy tables.” I shook it a little bit to see just how bad it was. More milk spilt on to the floor. A passing servant said that he would get a mop and clean it up.

 

Before he came back, Erviniae arrived back at the table. I stood up again, as is our custom. She slipped on the milk, and her hand caught the edge of table. Because I was standing up, I was not able to catch the rapidly up-ending table in time. A line of cakes and sandwiches were catapulted across the hall, showering the other elves who had the misfortune to be sitting at tables in the line of fire. Happily, the teapot fell on the floor and did not splash over anyone. A large puddle of black tea spread across the wooden floor and mixed with the contents of the smashed milk jug. I imagine that if a cat or dog had been allowed in, then they would have been very happy indeed.

 

There were cries of dismay from the elves affected by the food missiles. They stood to brush themselves down, and a couple complained that butter was incredibly hard for the servants to remove from clothing. This appealed to my sense of humour and I started to laugh. I have a rather infectious laugh, which set Celebrían off, followed by Erviniae, who luckily was unhurt.

 

The more the elves protested about the food hitting them, the more I laughed. I could not help myself. In the end, it became a shouting match as the food covered elves tried to remonstrate with me and I protested that it was an accident. Then they insulted me and made asides about me being pregnant and an ellon. My laughter stopped, and I pulled my bullwhip from its place on my belt.

 

It was time to make them pay.

 

 

 

 

 

**Part 81 – The Downfall of the Idle Rich – a Workable Plan.**  

 

  

 

“How dare you insult me,” I roared, cracking the whip in the air to scare the elves who thought they could insult me because I am with child. Erviniae and Celebrían stared goggle eyed at me.

 

“According to my nana he was like this when he was Oropher,” I head Celebrían whisper to Erviniae. “Those elves are for it now!”

 

“He can be pretty scary,” Erviniae whispered back.

 

“I find him quite sexy when he is like this,” Celebrían giggled.

 

I turned around. “Ladies please….” Then turned back to the elves who had previously been rude about me.

 

“What is going on?” I heard Círdan roar from the other side of the room. “Who has upset my husband?” He stormed through the crowd and stood beside me. “Are you all right, melethen?” he asked while removing the whip from my hand.

 

“The table was wobbly. Lady Erviniae slipped and caught the edge of the table, which made the food fly across the room,” I replied from the safety and warmth of his arms.

 

“Tell me everything,” Muffy said softly, his voice filled with affection.

 

“I stood up for Erviniae, because she was approaching us to sit down, and could not stop the table from upending...”

 

“Quite right,” Muffy interjected. “One should always stand for a Lady.”

 

“The table was wobbly and some milk had spilt on the floor. Erviniae slipped over on the milk and tried to break her fall on the table, but it upended and everything went everywhere.”

 

Círdan turned to Lady Erviniae, “Are you all right, my dear?”

 

“I am a bit shaken, but otherwise unhurt,” Erviniae replied, before taking a lace handkerchief and covering her eyes with it, as if she was crying.

 

“Poor dear; it was quite a shock for her,” Celebrían said, putting her arms around her Erviniae’s shoulders. I heard her whisper to the helpful minx that she should not to overdo it, before announcing that Erviniae was obviously upset by it all and needed to go back to her rooms. Good old Erviniae; she knew that crying would sway Círdan completely to our side, not that he wasn’t already, but she added the final touch. He can never resist a crying elleth.

 

Erviniae told Círdan the crowd had been perfectly awful to me for defending her. She then let out a sob and was led away by Celebrían, who muttered comforting and nonsensical words as they left the room.

 

A couple of the food-covered elves tried to speak, but Círdan held his hand up for them to be quiet. “Meleth, why were you about to whip them?” he asked as his eyes slid to the silently fuming elves.

 

“I could not help laughing when a couple of the elves whined about how hard it is for their servants to remove butter from clothing. Because I laughed, they started being derogatory about my pregnancy. To be honest, I keep hearing that I am a freak, and I am not prepared to tolerate it anymore, therefore I intended giving them a good whipping.” I looked at the whip in Círdan’s hand and then back up at him.

 

“Poor meleth,” Muffy said, so that only I could hear him. “What a trial these ignorant courtiers are to you.” He turned to the elves, who by now were looking quite indignant. “How dare you insult my husband,” he roared. “When you insult him, you insult me, and I will not stand for it.”

 

For the first time the elves looked genuinely worried. They started shifting uneasily.

 

“This is treason,” my wonderful husband continued. “From now on, any slight against my husband will be punished with hard labour and imprisonment. If it carries on there will be executions. Do I make myself clear?”

 

They all mumbled that he did. I stayed silent, trying not to laugh. It served them right.

 

“Come meleth; you must be worn out by all this nonsense,” Círdan glared angrily at the elves, who stood and watched him, sighing with relief that he had not taken things further.

 

Círdan’s arm remained around my shoulders as we walked to our rooms. He sat me on the sofa in our smaller, more private family sitting room and poured a glass of wine for me.

 

“Are you warm enough?”

 

“Perfectly so,” I replied, before taking a sip from my glass.

 

He sat beside me, and his arms drew me close. “I am so sorry that the courtiers are so ignorant towards you,” he said. “Hopefully it will stop, now they have seen that you will defend yourself and that I will support you in whatever revenge you take.”

 

“They made me feel like a freak. I am uncomfortable enough with my body as it is.”

 

“I do not think you are a freak. I love you and see only perfection.”

 

“I do not feel like going out ever again. It is like when I was pregnant with Cireolas all over again.” I felt ugly, and even though Círdan reassures me constantly, I do not feel normal.

 

“I will not stand for this discrimination,” Círdan said, his eyes blazing. “I am so angry. Those elves are worse than humans.”

 

“The more you punish them, the more they will hate me. Although, as they already hate me, I would appreciate any measure you take against them.” I snuggled closer to my Muffy and breathed in his warmth. “I leave it totally in your hands.”

 

Círdan kissed the top of my head. “I think you might find that I am a lot tougher on them than you would be,” he said softly. I could tell he was smiling. “I think it is about time we put the idle rich to work, don’t you?”

 

“I am one of the idle rich at the moment .” I laughed. “You are so wonderful to me that I do not have to lift a finger at the moment.”

 

“You are different, meleth,” he replied. “You worked very hard before becoming pregnant, but I feel that you need some time to relax. I have seen how easily you tire, and it cannot be easy carrying double the weight around.” I snuggled into my husband’s chest and smiled. “I am talking about the ones who spend their time in idle leisure, contributing nothing to the running of Mithlond but wielding considerable power over those that do work, just because they have titles and position.”

 

“You are so clever,” I said. I know how to flatter my husband and make him feel special, which he is. “Do you have anything in mind?”

 

“Not really, do you?”

 

“In Mirkwood there are very rich elves, but they are not allowed to be idle. They contribute to the community, or they are exiled; it is as simple as that. It was the same in Amon Lanc. We need more warriors and more healers. We could also do with more advisors, scribes and chroniclers of history.  Perhaps we could publish a free newssheet for everyone who lives here, and the idle rich could write it. Maybe we could hold a competition for new inventions?”

 

“I do wish you were not so delicate at the moment,” Muffy said. “When you have had the babies, and when you feel fully recovered, we will put your suggestions in motion.”

 

“Pre-warn them, so that those who are likely to sail can do so. Then it becomes a conscious decision to stay, which means they accept having to work.”

 

“Perhaps they should see life from both sides of the fence,” my naughty one suggested. “It would not hurt them to see how their food is made or learn how to keep pigs, for example.”

 

“Good idea, but with penalties for non-cooperation and wilful or careless damage?” I grinned, that would get them back for their nastiness.

 

“Of course, meleth,” Muffy agreed and kissed the top of my head again.

 

“I can make a great trifle from scratch and a meat stew,” I said feeling quite proud of myself. “Mel and I were taught by the cook in Mirkwood. Thranduil said we had to learn because knowing how to cook is a life skill. I taught him well, when he was younger.”

 

“Can Thranduil cook?” Muffy was astonished.

 

“He makes exceptionally good bread. All that pent up energy, I suppose. He also makes extremely good toffees and fudge. When we were tiny, he used to take Mel and me to the kitchens and make sweets and cakes with us.”

 

“You would not think of Thranduil as ever doing anything like that,” Círdan said.

 

“Every elf in Mirkwood has to do warrior training, learn to cook basic meals, learn about plants and the uses of, make a set of clothing, and learn basic healing. It would not hurt the idle rich here to do the same. After all, when I was King I already had the skills because my parents put this into practice before me.”

 

The day was ending and it was a little chilly. I gave an involuntary shiver.  Círdan rang for a servant and ordered some hot spiced-wine. He lit the fire, something that the idle rich expect the servants to do, and placed a blanket around my shoulders. He did not really need to do that, but he likes to, so I do not argue when he does. It is a demonstration that he loves me and that is good enough.

 

  

 

 

 

**Part 82 – Playing With Milk**  

 

 

A little while later, we sat sipping our hot wine and snuggling together. “Can you cook?” I asked.

 

“I can make stew when journeying, and years ago when we were first awakened we all had to cook and prepare food. Nothing was done for us. Maybe that is why I get so angry at the elves who do nothing all day.” Muffy stroked the side of my face and then he kissed my cheek. “When they insult you, I want to run each and every one of them through with my sword.”

 

“We let them live here rent free and we pay for all their food.” I pointed out. “Let us make them live in tents until they show us the proper respect we are due as the rulers of Mithlond. Not only are they idle and contribute nothing, they are also the biggest freeloaders in Middle-earth. No other realm would tolerate it. In Imladris, every elf has to choose an occupation, no matter how high born they are. It is the same in Lothlórien. I would also take away their automatic right to a table at meal times, and make them turn up at a specific time or lose their food.”

 

“I cannot wait to put all your ideas into action, meleth,” Círdan said happily. “We will do it together.”

 

“You are so wise,” I said, laying my head on his shoulder. “No wonder I adore you.”

 

Muffy tilted my face slightly towards him and kissed my lips, while brushing his hand down to my hip. “We can be even warmer in bed.” His voice took on the hoarseness it always does when he is aroused.

 

We went to the bedroom, and Círdan bade me to sit on the edge of the bed. He knelt between my legs and lifted up my robe. I watched as the blade of the dagger flashed, as it cut through the sides of my loincloth; it is something that always excites me. My arousal was held between warm fingers as Muffy’s delicious mouth closed over it.

 

I groaned with pleasure and felt Muffy laughing with my cock in his mouth. I looked down. “One would think you never had sex,” he explained and carried on tormenting my arousal with delicious suction, licks and kisses. I held onto his head as I came, causing my sweet one to gag and ask me if I was trying to kill him.

 

“Oops,” I said, before grinning widely.

 

“That caught in my throat,” Círdan said. “I need a drink to wash it down.”

 

I opened the front of my robe, “Meleth.” I breathed and licked my lips, as Círdan stood transfixed. “Let me feed you.”

 

He knelt before me and gently placed his hands around my back. “How I love you,” he said, his voice betraying his excitement. He tenderly placed his lips around one of the nipples and sucked it into his mouth. I held his head close as I shut my eyes and dreamt of him being inside me. A thin line of milk escaped from my other nipple, trickling a thin stream down my chest before dripping onto my leg. Círdan rubbed his hand over the line of milk, smearing it across my face and into my hair.

 

I lay back while Muffy covered himself with oil.  He lifted my legs up and pulled my ass to the edge of the bed. It was just the right height, which Círdan had specified when he had it made. In one smooth glide, he was inside me; the mild sting of the entry promising much nicer feelings to come. Gripping my hips, almost painfully, he pushed in and pulled out. Slowly at first and taking care to angle for my maximum enjoyment.

 

My eyes half closed and filled with desire, urged him to go faster, but he continued to tease me by going slowly. He squeezed my nipples, so that the milk ran out, and he wiped it over my lips “Taste yourself,” he commanded.

 

I let my tongue lick his hand, in the most sensuous manner, and his eyes glazed over in his excitement. Neither of us could hold on for long. Círdan took me in his hand, while slamming into me at a furious pace.  He came first and I followed.

 

Looking up at him, I smiled. “I hope there is more to come tonight.” I used my sexiest voice.

 

“You know that will happen,” Muffy replied, leaning forward to kiss me. “You are so beautiful.”

 

We kissed, and in the background, we could hear the door to our apartment being opened and Cireolas’ little voice calling for us. “Adas, I come to see you.” We could hear him asking his nanny where she thought we might be. She replied that we could be anywhere.

 

We quickly ran into the bathroom. I wiped myself all over with a wet cloth, paying particular attention to the stiff strands of hair where Círdan had wiped my milk.

 

“I will go and see to him,” Círdan said after spraying himself with perfumed water and adjusting his robe.

 

“I will just get this cack out of my hair,” I grinned.

 

In the end, I held my head under the tap and washed my hair. Then I roughly dried it with a towel and sprayed my body with the perfumed water. Then I brushed my hair and put on a fresh robe. It took all of five minutes.. I walked out of the bedroom and into the large living room, full of smiles when I saw my excited little ion, who was perched in Círdan’s arms.

 

“Look Ada,” he said excitedly. “I walk a long way.”

 

Círdan put him down on the floor opposite me. Cireolas walked forward and I encouraged him with big smiles. Then I swept him up and swung him around, as I remember my Ada Erestor doing to me when I was tiny. Small pleasures and they are worth their weight in gold.

 

Cireolas could walk a few steps before, but he has never been able to do any appreciable distance. He walked about twenty steps before I caught him.

 

“I walk back,” he said, a big beaming smile on his face.

 

“Come to me,” Círdan said as he squatted down, ready to receive him.

 

Cireolas started his little wobbly walk, and by the time he got to Círdan he looked as if he might fall. Muffy caught him and swung him up high, so that our little ion screeched with laughter.

 

“I walk long way,” Cireolas cried out in joy.

 

“Cireolas,” his nanny said. “Why don’t you tell your adas what else you did?”

 

“I stooded up when did wee,” he announced proudly. “I water garden.”

 

I laughed and Círdan asked if a little prince should drop his leggings outside. I remember my first ada and me watering the flowers together when I was little. When I was reborn there was no need for it, as I already knew what to do. I taught Thranduil to water the flowers when he was an elfling, and he thought it was the most fun thing to do, until he discovered that one could poo in the flowerbeds as well.

 

“You said I not prince,” Cireolas pointed out. “So I drop leggies all time now.”

 

I could not help laughing. “You are a very cheeky little elfling,” Círdan said, a smile on his face.

 

“You like cheeky Cirrus,” our little ion replied. “I do lot of cheeky.”

 

Círdan gave Cireolas to me and told the nanny that she could have some free time. “We will put him to bed tonight, so if you come back by eleven that should be fine.”

 

Alassë smiled, and thanked us with a curtsey.  “Be good for your Adas,” she said to Cireolas who grinned widely.

 

“I always good,” he assured her. “I never naughty.”

 

“We will see,” she trilled and then kissed his cheek before waving goodbye and leaving the room.

  

 

 

 

 

**Part 83 – The Battle in the Breakfast Hall.**  

 

 

 

Time has moved on since my last entry. The, ‘idle rich’ are beaten. Our victory came only because Círdan and I, together with members of my family, reminded them rather physically that we are powerful warlords, with a loyal following stronger than all of them put together. Together, we managed to fight off a very well organised rebellion.

 

Three months ago, legal notices were sent to every resident of the castle who does not contribute to the running of the realm; in other words the ‘idle rich’. The notices required that they pay for their rent and food, that they pick a suitable occupation, and they would also be stripped of all preferential rights. In addition, they were also expected to undergo warrior training, even those who were once warriors long ago, and to take their part in the defence of the realm. We have many productive rich and we shall continue to pay for their food and let them have their apartments free; our argument is not with them at all and they have been supportive of our decisions.

 

Nearly all the Lords and Ladies who were affected by Círdan’s decree were outraged. On one occasion, two idle ellith were verbally abusive towards me, while I walked with Cireolas through the gardens. I threatened to run them through with my sword, so they scurried off.

 

As I neared the castle, one of the Lords drew his sword on me, and said that he was quite prepared to kill me and my unborn bastards, in front of my ion. I whipped him to ribbons in my anger. I was informed by Elrond, who stayed in Mithlond with us to make sure that Círdan and I had enough support, that the errant Lord will need to sail if he is to recover. I care not. He drew his sword meaning to kill me in front of Cireolas, who could have been hurt too. I doubt that any elf would willingly kill an elfling, but he might have taken the opportunity to hold him hostage.

 

“Let him die on these shores,” Círdan said when Elrond told him of the Lord’s prognosis. “It will be a lesson to all of them. It is disgraceful that my husband, in his delicate condition, should have been made to defend himself. He could have lost our babies.”

 

“But that would make Ereolas a kinslayer,” Elrond said, a worried look on his face juxtaposed with a smirk at Círdan’s reference to me being delicate.

 

“It is all right,” I replied cheerfully. “I have kinslayed before.”

 

“Yes, I know,” Elrond reasoned. “The Valar ordered you to do it though. This is different.”

 

“It was self defence, and an elfling was at risk of being injured or even killed,” I replied. “I trust the Valar will recognise that.”

 

“It is enough that my ion had to watch his ada being threatened. He must have been terrified,” Círdan said, trying to suppress his rage. Really, he was so deliciously sexy that I wanted to jump on his lap and have my wicked way with him. However, Cireolas has decided upon a permanent place on his Ada Círdan’s chest and will not let go of him. He is loathe to sit with anyone else, except me, but I am very much a second best. Erestor tried to pick him up and he screamed the place down.

 

“Surely if the Valar mean him to die then they will not let him survive the journey,” Elrond said. “The chances are very slim that he will stay alive anyway.”

 

Círdan looked at me. “What do you say, melethen? I leave it up to you.”

 

“I could not care less either way. I am sure that defending myself, and Cireolas, and my unborn babies would be approved of by the Valar.” I looked at Elrond. “He can sail. I care not what happens to him. I am more concerned with the effect on Cireolas, who has not stopped fretting since it happened.”

 

The injured Lord was taken to the ship. Círdan refused to head the voyage and left it to his second in command. I watched from our living room window in our apartment. There was a good view of the sea, and to the side I could see the dock. Most of the ‘idle rich’ were there, holding onto one another and sobbing. The ship was out to sea, about a quarter of a mile off, when a white sail was hauled down, and a black sail hoisted in its place. The Lord had died and the Valar decided it so. If they do not want an elf to enter Valinor, they take them before they reach the halfway line. It is regarded as a test for the dying, and he failed. There was much grieving on the shore, and I heard the wails of distress as far away as my window.

 

“He’s dead,” I said to Círdan.

 

“Good,” he replied. “Cireolas, did you hear that? The nasty elf who tried to hurt your ada will not be able to threaten us anymore. Now do you think that when Grand Ada Erestor wants to pick you up again, that you will let him?”

 

“No,” Cireolas said loudly and crossed his arms. “Want adas. Want you.”

 

That night, all was quiet. Mel, Glorfindel, and Silimaurë kept the warriors posted around the castle. They were even less enamoured of the ‘idle rich’ than we were. They resented being ordered around by them and viewed them as parasites.  

 

We slept safely, and the next morning we went to breakfast. The ‘idle rich’ all sat together in one part of the breakfast hall. When we entered the room, they booed us. I merely smirked at them. We were more powerful than them and they knew it. I noticed then that some other ‘idle rich’ occupied another section of the breakfast hall, directly behind our table. They had not booed us and had carried on eating.

 

Something was wrong. There was body movement in both groups that seemed unusual, as if they were reaching for something behind their chairs and under the tables. No arms were brought into the breakfast hall, by tradition, although Círdan and I carried them today, as did members of my family. The warriors searched everyone for weapons, paying special attention to the idle rich, as they entered the hall. Tradition was maintained by most; however, the risk was so high that even elflings were searched. For fun, we insisted that Mel search Cireolas. He found his toy baby dagger, which all elflings wear to accustom them to wearing weapons, and pronounced it as dangerous.

 

“You could kill someone to death with that,” Mel told our giggling ion.

 

“Give it me,” Cireolas demanded. “It mine.”

 

Mel gave it back, and then he found the tiny three-foot long baby whip that was mine when an elfling. I gave it to my ion when he said that he wanted one, so he could be like me.

 

“It my whip,” Cireolas said and grabbed it from Mel who laughed. “You no take my whip. It mine.”

 

“You could rip a passing dog’s head of with that vicious weapon,” Mel teased.

 

“Yes I could,” Cireolas said proudly and smiled at his uncle.

 

Here I am going off at a tangent. Back to what happened in the hall.

 

I continued to look around, and even Círdan caught the frisson of danger. Erestor reacted more rapidly than us. I saw a glint of flying steel. Erestor threw the table over with a sudden swiftness and pulled me down to the ground. The knife would have entered my chest; instead, it hit the throat of the serving elleth behind me. I pulled her towards me and stopped her hand from gripping onto the blade. The blood seeped out of the sides, but it would have spurted if the knife had been removed.

 

A hail of knives flew at us from behind and in front. We sheltered on the floor. By this time, the warriors had charged into the room. Mel threw a sword to Círdan, who did not pick it up. In a slow motion moment, I looked and saw that he had a knife deeply embedded in his arm. Cireolas was in his arms and screaming with terror.

 

One of the warriors picked up the serving elleth and ran out the room with her.

 

I picked the sword up and Círdan put his hand over mine to stop me,” Meleth, do not put yourself in danger,” he urged. “I will be all right. I will fight with my other arm.”

 

“Stay here and look after Cireolas. You are injured and I am not,” I shouted above the din of clashing steel and the yelling of the elves who were fighting.

 

Mel and Glorfindel were jumping over tables in heated battle with the armed, ‘idle rich’, who had obviously secreted weapons in the breakfast room the previous day. Legolas chased several of them down a corridor and came back smiling because they were no more. Erestor was swinging his heavy broadsword and hacking into any who opposed him. Elrond climbed onto the only standing table and jumped up to the chandelier. He swung it back and forth before hanging upside down from it, slitting the throats of all who were unfortunate to be within reaching distance. What an imaginative fighter he is. It seems his previous lack of enthusiasm for kinslaying was somewhat short-lived.

 

I leapt over the table barricade and swung at the brother of the idiot who had died on the way to Valinor. He had come looking for me especially. We leapt from chair to table, down to the floor, and from statue to curtains. There was no place we did not fight. In the end, I ran him through with my sword, because I was beginning to become bored and wanted to fight someone else who might prove to be more challenging.

 

The fight was going well and I was whooping with joy as I killed yet another damned member of the ‘idle rich’. Then everything went to a standstill and we all looked around. My ion, Thranduil, was in the doorway and he was shouting.

 

 “What the fuck is going on?” Thranduil roared, while drawing his sword. Everyone stared at him. “I come on a surprise visit to see my family and what is happening?” he roared in his very loud voice. “There is a bloody war going on over breakfast.” He looked upwards. “Elrond? What are you doing hanging from that chandelier?”

 

“Slitting throats, of course,” Elrond replied, as if it were an everyday occurrence.

 

Thranduil he looked at me. “Ada, what are you doing fighting in your condition? Get down off that curtain before you fall and hurt yourself.” My knife was still on my opponent’s throat.

 

“No chance, Thranduil,” I called out to him with a big grin on my face. “Not until I have dispatched this perfidious varlet.”

 

“I will get him down,” Merilnis, Thranduil’s bloodthirsty wife said as she nocked her bow. She shot the elf through the head. His body went limp, so I dropped him. “Now get down, Ereolas.”

 

I climbed down carefully and walked over to Thranduil, who was congratulating Merilnis on being such a good shot. We hugged each other, and then I kissed Merilnis on the cheek. “How lovely to see you both.”

 

Over the other side of the room, I could see Mel waving his hand. His opponent became a little nappy wearing monkey, which screeched while jumping up and down. The other, ‘idle rich’ elves looked horrified and tried to dodge the direction Mel’s hand. They tried to hide, but very soon, the whole room was filled with nappy wearing monkeys. It was the funniest sight I ever saw.

 

I laughed so hard that I wonder I did not give birth there and then.

 

“Why didn’t you do that first of all?” Glorfindel asked Mel.

 

“I had to know who to aim at,” Mel replied. “I can’t just change elves into monkeys because they might be the enemy; I have to be certain.”

 

“Round the monkeys up and put them in a cage,” Círdan ordered. The blood was flowing in a heavy throbbing stream out of his arm and he looked grey. I took Cireolas from him and let Elrond lead him off to the healing block.

 

“All the bad elves have been turned into monkeys,” I said to Cireolas who was nervously laughing and pointing at them. He still appeared shocked.

 

Mel walked over and smiled. “Hello, Grand Ada and Grand Nana.” He hugged them both. “Oh! Hold on,” he turned around and waved his hand. A large steel cage formed in the centre of the hall. Inside were bunches of bananas, which the monkeys wanted to eat. They swarmed towards the cage and Glorfindel locked the door as soon as the last one was inside.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Part 84 – The Aftermath.**  

 

 

The serving staff nervously peeped over the remains of the breakfast tables. Bacon and eggs lay scattered across the floor, and a the vat of porridge had been upended onto the floor. The warriors stood looking at the mess. To brighten everyone’s spirits I announced that the rest of the day would be a holiday. The castle workers cheered while the monkeys sat in the cage, unconcerned, working their way through the mountain of bananas.

 

“This is going to be a huge clean up job,” I remarked. Mel said that I was wrong. He made the tables lighter than air, so they floated up to the ceiling, and then he waved his hand again. All the food gathered in a pile on the floor. The slashed paintings repaired themselves, and the statue of Thranduil’s head was replaced the wrong way round. Mel really is very naughty. He wanted to see if Thranduil noticed. He did not, and my brother and I enjoyed a secret giggle.

 

Erestor and Legolas were nowhere to be seen. We found out later that they were so excited by all the fighting they went back to their room and shagged like rabbits.

 

I went off to see Círdan, with Cireolas in my arms, and was very pleased to see my old friends Aglarien and Erviniae there. They had missed the fight completely.

 

“Hello, dear ones,” I said with a carefree smile.

 

“You are covered in porridge and bacon,” Aglarien said accusingly.

 

“Ugh!” Erviniae made a guttural sound and threw up into a bowl. “Please Agie, do not mention food.” She sounded quite desperate.

 

“Morning sickness?”

 

Agie nodded and said that they had been there for the past hour and a half. “I am glad that you were sick, Ervy,” I said. “There has been the most exciting swordfight in the breakfast hall and you might have been hurt. Do not worry; both your husbands are unharmed. Círdan suffered a dagger through his arm, so I have come to see him.”

 

“I wondered what had happened,” Agie said. “Círdan did not look very well. You had better go and see how he is.”

 

Even more worried, because of what Agie said, I walked into the healing rooms, but could not see Círdan or Elrond anywhere. I asked a passing healer’s assistant where they might be, and he replied that they were in the clean room. That is the room where the healer does his healing things. I prefer not to know about the workings of that room, as I find what happens in there a bit frightening. “Is Círdan all right?” I asked him.

 

“I am sorry, I have no idea,” he replied. “Would you would like to wait?”

 

“How about the serving elleth who was brought in earlier?”

 

“I do not know,” he said, looking uncomfortable. I feared the worst.

 

Cireolas and I sat down near Agie and Erviniae, who looked very miserable indeed _._ Iwell remember having morning sickness and felt heartily sorry for her.

 

“I am sure that when Elrond comes out of the clean room that he can give you something,” I said.

 

“Shut up, Ereolas,” she blubbered. “I feel bloody awful. If you haven’t got anything constructive to say then keep silent.”

 

I looked at Agie, who seemed shocked. “She is pregnant,” I said. “Her rudeness is to be expected.”

 

“Oh, Valar!” Erviniae said as she buried her head in the bowl again.

 

Throughout all of this Cireolas slept. I was rather glad that he did. All the stress had worn him out, and it was good that he felt comfortable enough to close his eyes. The healer’s assistant passed us and I called out to him. “Is there a healer around? Lady Erviniae is not very well.”

 

“I will see if I can find one,” he answered before walking away.

 

It was about half an hour before Elladan came to see us. He looked pale. After talking to Erviniae, he brought some medicine to her.

 

“Ereolas,” Elladan said and motioned for me to join him. We walked to a side room and saw the serving elleth, who had been stabbed in the neck. A bandage covered her neck, and she looked pale and translucent. “Her name is Calafalas. She has no family,” he whispered. ”Would you sit with her?”

 

I gave my sleeping ion to Elladan and told him to ask Agie to hold him until I came back. I knew what Elladan was asking me to do. It would not be right that my ion was in the room.

 

I sat on the chair beside Calafalas’ bed. Holding her hand, I quietly looked at her innocent face, while wiping my tears away with the back of my hand. Her laboured breathing rattling in her throat.

 

“I am so sorry that I could not save you,” I said softly.

 

Calafalas’ eyes fluttered. “You tried,” she whispered, as if every movement was agony for her.

 

I kissed her fingers. “Do not be afraid to die, Calafalas.”

 

“What is it like?” I saw the tinge of blue touching her lips.

 

“Your fëa will be like a feather floating away from the heaviness of this world. The Halls are peaceful. There is no pain or hunger, and we can see all those whom we have lost before.” Tears streaming down my cheeks; she was barely fifty years old.

 

Calafalas gave a slight smile, even though it pained her to do so. “I will see my parents and my brothers and sisters.”

 

Lord Námo stood beside her. “Come, my dear,” he said, his voice warm and filled with compassion Her hand reached up to his and he took it.

 

Calafalas’ lifeless hand fell back to the bed as she rose up to meet him. Her fëa seemed full of joy, a stark contrast to how she was just before her death. Námo smiled at me and said that Círdan would be all right. Then he and Calafalas faded until I could see them no more.

 

I sat for a little while longer and prayed to Nienna, asking her to look after Calafalas’ fëa; she was barely more than an elfling and my heart broke for her. When I was finished, I put her hands over her heart, closed her eyes, and covered her face with the sheet. “Sleep well, sweet Calafalas,” I whispered before leaving the room.

 

I went to where Aglarien was sitting and took Cireolas from her. He was singing the counting song. Elladan joined us and invited me to see Círdan.

 

Erviniae stood up. “I am sorry I was rude to you, Ereolas.”

 

“It matters not. You did not feel well,” I said and hugged her. I thanked Agie for looking after Cireolas, before following Elladan.

 

Círdan lay on the bed, a sheet and a blanket covering his bare chest. His arm was stitched and Elrond was applying a new bandage. The old one was soaked in blood.

 

“It’s easing off now,” Elrond said.

 

“I probably have no more blood to come out,” Círdan said sleepily.

 

“You will be all right.” Elrond looked at me. “He will be fine.” I sat beside my husband and held his hand. “Are you all right?”

 

“I am fine,” I said in a small voice.

 

Cireolas settled beside Círdan. He went to sleep, sucking his thumb. Elrond sat beside me. “You do not look all right,” he said.

 

“I have just stayed with Calafalas. She needed someone in her final moments.” I looked at Círdan. It could have so easily been either one of us.

 

“Come and see me in a few minutes,” Elrond said. He left the room.

 

I sat looking at my sleeping husband and sleeping ion. My unborn babies chattered excitedly, wondering what had happened.

 

I sighed and wondered why the innocent had to die in the name of selfishness.

 

The first tear dripped from my eyes, as I held Círdan's hand to my cheek.

 

There is no such thing as an easy victory.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	32. Part 85 – Bye Bye Monkeys! Part 86 – Baby Talk and Baby Sulks. Part 87 – The New Game. Part 88 – The Babies are Coming.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cireolas is naughty. The unborn babies argue and sulk. Ereolas plays a new game. Cirdan opens the new healing block. Ereolas is the first to use it.

**Part 85 – Bye Bye Monkeys!**

 

Yesterday, we defeated the idle rich. There was the tragic loss of one of the serving maids, and several elves suffered minor injuries, most of which they treated themselves. A knife hit Cirdan in the arm and severed an artery. He lost a lot of blood, but happily Elrond and the other healer elves managed to reattach the ends of the severed artery. He was allowed back to our rooms late that evening, looking a bit white but otherwise intact.  Cireolas laughed at the monkeys, but he is still fearful about being away from Cirdan. Tomorrow he will stay with his nanny, to whom I have given today off. She can look after Cireolas in our presence so that he starts to trust other elves again.

 

o0o0o0o

 

The day after our battle with the idle rich, the cage full of nappy wearing monkeys was loaded onto one of the ships we use to sail to Valinor. They were perfectly happy, so long as they received a good supply of bananas. Mel had added a single monkey compartment to the cage, so that a monkey who wanted to go to the toilet, could enter it and wait to be let out. They were escorted in chains to the monkey toilet, which was below deck and only for their use, and then they would come back again. All of them were perfectly amenable, until they saw me walking along the deck with the Lady Erviniae. I walked over to look at them and they started screaming and shaking the bars of the cage in what seemed a monkey madness.

 

“They don’t like you,” Erviniae sniggered. “They like me though.” She stroked one of the smaller monkeys on the head, who was crouching in a corner, guarding his banana and ignoring the screaming and cage bashing that was going on. “In fact, I think they would cheerfully kill you if they could.”

 

“Erviniae my dear,” I grinned. “They only like you because you look like them.”

 

“I hope that when your babies are born they look like monkeys,” she laughed and poked her tongue out.

 

“That is cruel,” I said smiling. “No baby should look like Cirdan.”

 

We both giggled. “I am telling him,” Erviniae laughed as we went to walk down the gangplank.

 

“He will not believe you,” I informed her, a smirk on my lips. “I will look at him with my loving eyes and tell him that you are a minx.”

 

I walked down the gangplank onto the dock, with Erviniae behind me.

 

“He knows that I am a minx already.” She poked her tongue out again and jumped off the end of the gangplank onto the dock, avoiding my hand, which was held out to her.

 

“Careful,” I took her hand anyway. “You do not want to fall over.”

 

“You are like an old human lady, my Lord,” Erviniae said. “I will not hurt myself. Of that I am sure.”

 

“Come on minx.” I held her arm. “Now, wave goodbye to your relatives.”

 

“Isn’t that Mel?” Erviniae screwed her eyes up to focus better as the ship was floating out to sea. “I did not see him when we were on deck.”

 

“He was probably taking one of the monkeys to the toilet.”  I replied and waved to my older brother. “He is going to change the monkeys back when they get to Valinor. So long as he stays on the ship and doesn’t set foot on land, he will be allowed to come back.”

 

“I would love to go for the voyage and come back even if I do not set foot off the ship,” Erviniae said, her eyes sparkling.

 

“Mel can do it because he is half-Maia, and Cirdan and his crews can because they have special dispensation from the Valar. You and I could not do it though; we would be made to stay.” I continued waving to my brother and hoped that he was right in what he told me.

 

Erviniae took my arm. “Come on. Silimaurë will have finished having his new uniform fitting by now, I should think.”

 

We made our way back to the castle. On the way, we saw Aglarien and her husband, Angaráto, returning from the market. Cireolas’ nanny was with them. My little ion was in bed with his Ada Círdan, and they were both fast asleep when I left them this morning. I expect they will not be asleep now though.  I hope Cirdan has stayed in bed; I told him to, but he does as he pleases. I would have stayed at home but he insisted that I see the ship off.

 

I went to the Breakfast Hall to take a tray up to my small family. At one of the tables sat Cirdan with Cireolas in his high baby chair, next to him. That saved me from having to carry a tray up several flights of stairs.

 

“Hello.” I smiled as I sat down beside my love, with a cup of strawberry and mango tea in one hand and an almond custard pastry in the other.

 

“Hello, melethen,” Cirdan replied. “I am glad you are here. Cireolas is being naughty and I am too tired to deal with him.”

 

Cirdan still looked quite grey. “You should not have got out of bed, my love. I said that I would not be long.” I kissed his cheek, which is not exactly following etiquette when in public at mealtime, but he has had a rough time lately.

 

“I am going back to bed shortly.” Cirdan took a sip of his tea before giving me a tired smile.

 

 “We can go back to our rooms and have breakfast delivered,” I suggested. I was really quite worried about him; he did not look very well at all.

 

“I will be all right,” Cirdan said. “Just sort Cireolas out, please.”

 

“Ada,” Cireolas called to me. I looked over at him, and saw that he had covered his face with porridge. “I look like Ada Cirdan now,” he said happily before slapping a wodge of it on his head.

 

“You naughty little elfling.” I gave him my angry look. “What do you think you are doing?”

 

“I not like porridge. I not eat it no more. Right?” Cireolas demanded.

 

“You will eat porridge every day. Porridge is good food for little elflings,” I said firmly. “I will hear no more about it and you will do as you are told.”

 

Cireolas started to cry loudly; crocodile tears ran down his cheeks. “His crying is going straight through me.” Cirdan put his head on his arms and shut his eyes. “Make the little brat stop.”

 

Happily, my Adas walked into the hall. Legolas took a tablecloth off the nearest table and wrapped my crying ion up in it, being careful to avoid the bits of porridge that fell off him. 

 

“You cannot resist being naughty, can you Cireolas?” Legolas said, his face stern. “Ada Cirdan is not well and you are still being selfish.”

 

“Bugger off,” Cireolas cried. “Want Ada.”

 

“You are a very rude little baby.” Ada Erestor and took him from Ada Legolas. “We are going to take you to our rooms and clean you up.”

 

“No, I stay with adas,” my little one screamed. “You leave Cirrus alone.”

 

 “Cut it out,” I said rather strongly to my little ion. “You are being very naughty and if you were older I would spank you.”

 

“You hate me,” Cireolas yelled as loud as he could. “I want be with you and Ada but you hate me.”

 

“Shut up, stupid elfling.” I really have no time for histrionics, especially off toddlers. “I am more concerned with your Ada Cirdan. He is not very well and you are being naughty.”

 

“I look after Ada Círdan.” Cireolas seemed to think this was a good idea. He smiled brightly. “He be all right with me.”

 

“You can go and get washed. I will look after Ada.”

 

“No, not going.” Cireolas screamed and started to kick Erestor.

 

Both my adas marched out of the room with him. Cireolas struggled in Erestor’s arms and told Erviniae and Aglarien, who were coming into the Hall as my adas were passing through, that he was being kidnapped and did not know who his kidnappers were and they should alert the guards. Both Ladies dissolved into fits of laughter and said how funny he was.

 

Cireolas’ yells gradually faded into the distance. I sat beside Cirdan and took his hand. “Meleth, let us go back to our rooms now.”

 

He stirred, looking very weak. “I am so tired,” he said. “I do not think that I have the energy to move.” He put his head back on his folded arms and fell asleep again at the table, which was a shocking breach of etiquette, especially in front of courtiers. However, sometimes when elves are ill etiquette cannot be upheld and that is that.

 

There was nothing for it except to take him back myself. As I started to lift him, I heard Elrond’s voice calling out to me to stop. Apparently, one of the healers, who was previously at breakfast, had informed Elrond that Cirdan seemed to be unwell.

 

“I was going to carry Cirdan back to our rooms,” I told Elrond. “He should never have come to breakfast in the first place.”

 

“I would not advise picking Cirdan up whilst nine months pregnant,” Elrond said. “I will pick him up instead.”

 

Elrond put one arm around Círdan’s shoulders and the other under his legs. Cirdan did not stir.

 

“Is he all right?”

 

“We could take him to the healing rooms and check him over,” Elrond replied as we walked out of the Breakfast Hall. “How are you feeling this morning after all that action yesterday?”

 

“I feel pretty good.” I smiled. For the past few weeks I had felt incredibly healthy.

 

“We have the healer’s conference soon. I do not see how we can do that here and get back to Imladris in time,” Elrond said. “Saelir is coming from Mirkwood and I need to spend some time with him; he has developed a new technique for treating poisoned wounds and has invented a new cream that heals burns much faster than before.”

 

“What do you suggest then?” I asked. “It would be extremely poor etiquette if we did not maintain a presence here during the conference.” I knew why he was worried. Cireolas was born two months early and this time I was having twins, so Elrond feared that the term might be shorter still. He had a theory that the male body could not withstand a pregnancy for too long and that in the end it sought to reject it.

 

“We might find the decision made for us,” Elrond smiled. “If Saelir’s theory is right, you could give birth at any time.”

 

“Better sooner than later.” The thought of not having to endure another three months made my heart sing.

 

“Hopefully later. The earlier they come the smaller they will be.” Elrond laid Cirdan on the bed. He looked in his mouth and under his lower eyelids. “If there was a way to give him some blood, then he would certainly benefit from it.”

 

“Saelir used to make the Mirkwood warriors eat lots of raw liver when they lost blood.” I stroked my sleeping husband’s face.

 

“Do you think that Cirdan would agree to eat raw liver?” Elrond grinned.

 

“I am not eating raw liver,” Cirdan mumbled. “Now, get out of my bedroom and let me get back to sleep.”

 

“You are in the healing rooms,” I said merrily, “and Cireolas has gone off with my adas.”

 

“I am too tired to care,” Cirdan replied. He opened his eyes a fraction. “I am sure that I shall feel better after a sleep.”

 

“When he wakes up he can go back to your rooms, so long as he stays in bed,” Elrond said as we left the room. “I believe Saelir is bringing some healers with him. He hopes to train a new set of healers for you.”

 

“Well we do not have any palace healers. The ones in town are very busy, although they will come if we really need them.”

 

“I have to face it,” Elrond said as we walked into the small, attached garden. “Elladan and Elrohir will never make good healers. I heard about how you were tied to the bed by them, for a week, after knocking out thirty warriors when they tried to restrain you.”

 

“It was fifteen warriors, and Cirdan ordered that I be tied to the bed because of how injured his face was. Saelir had to put it right when we went to Mirkwood. The tale grew in the telling and Elrohir was loathe to untie me because he believed that I was not in my right mind.”

 

“They have always been reluctant in the ways of healing and yet they are good at it when they apply themselves. Their hearts are not in it.” Elrond sighed with disappointment. “I will take them back with me after the conference and let them be full time warriors. That is what they really want to do.”

 

“There is always time later on for learning the ways of healing,” I said, causing him to smile. “When they want a break from being warriors then maybe they will want to take up healing again. In truth there is no hurry.”

 

“Have you decided anything for Cireolas yet?” Elrond asked.

 

“Private tutors, Haldir’s school for recalcitrant elflings, warrior training…” I joked.

 

“Well, I sent both my twins to Haldir’s school and it straightened them both out really well,” Elrond shrugged.

 

“The way Cireolas is carrying on, he will be the youngest elfling at the school.”

 

“He is exceptionally rude sometimes. One would think that he was reborn. I know he is not, so he must repeat everything he hears,” Elrond mused. “I think that he is probably very intelligent. He constantly tests you to see what he can get away with.”

 

“I think the new babies will be the same. Anyway, Cireolas is Elrohir’s soul mate so he will be off my hands in forty-nine years.”

 

“Unless Elrohir comes here to live with you,” Elrond smirked.

 

“I had not thought of that.”

 

We continued chatting for a while and then it stated to rain. It made sense to go back inside. I said goodbye to Elrond and went off to see if Cireolas was clean yet.

 

I arrived at my adas room and walked in. Cireolas lay fresh and clean, wrapped in a quilt and fast asleep. My adas lay either side of him, sleeping too. It was so tempting. The fire was roaring and the rain beat at the windows. The bed looked so inviting. I snuggled under the covers behind Ada Legolas and closed my eyes, smiling at the thought of all four of us waking up later in the same bed. I put my hand around his waist and ada took hold of it.

 

It reminds me of when I was an elfling, Mel and I would always wake up in our adas bed.

 

Nothing really changes, does it?

 

 

 

**Part 86 – Baby Talk and Baby Sulks.  
**

 

 

Life calmed down considerably after the idle rich departed Mithlond as nappy wearing monkeys. Mel arrived back and he confided in me, whilst howling with laughter, that he had been unable to change the monkeys back to their true form. He said that when he went to sleep that night, and visited Estë’s garden, Olorin told him that the monkeys would be changed back once they had learnt their lesson.

 

Cirdan recovered after a couple of weeks of rest. He slept most of the time, which irritated the life out of Cireolas, who thought that his ada should play with him the whole of his waking day. I am not a good substitute, apparently, and neither is his nanny. She ignores him when he tells her so, and it drives him to distraction. It is rather fun to watch.

 

My belly grew bigger. The babies were enjoying a month long mega-sulk, and so I heard little from them. They were in a huff with each other, and with me, because they were bored and could not believe that they still had to wait a couple of months to be born.

 

This morning, Cirdan and I were lying in bed. It was too early to get up, so we talked softly about the forthcoming healer’s conference and the official opening of the new healing block. Cirdan has agreed that he will do all the official opening ceremonies because I presented the Slash Awards. We must have bored our little unborn babies to bits because my little iell demanded to know when she would be born; she was tired of being in my belly with her brother. Then she yelled because he kicked her and told her to shut her mouth.

 

“You will just have to wait,” I said consolingly. “There is not long to go now.”

 

“You are for it when we get out of here,” she shouted through my belly. I could not help laughing. She lost her temper. “I am never going to talk to you again.” I saw the imprint of her tiny foot kicking from inside my belly and giggled. Then she yelled that her unborn brother had grabbed her foot and bit it. As if a baby could bite! She obviously did not consider that I would know babies do not possess teeth.

 

“Are you being naughty?” I asked them. Cirdan sat beside me shaking with laughter.

 

“They are going to be trouble when they are born.” He smiled. “I expect they will be worse than Cireolas.”

 

“Ada,” my little iell shouted through my belly. “He has just bitten my foot. Make him stop.”

 

“Shut your mouth. I didn’t bite your foot; I gummed it,” her twin brother yelled. “I am never going to talk to you ever again, even when you are born. You are horrid, ugly and smelly. So there!”

 

He let out a scream, and from his whining, I gather that she had kicked him in the groin. They started fighting, and so I told them sternly to stop. I added that the woodcutter couple would definitely take them if they carried on misbehaving.

 

“She started it,” my unborn ion whined.

 

“No Ada, he started it,” my unborn iell shouted earnestly.

 

“I do not care who started it. It stops now or else.” Cirdan said loudly, his head against my stomach. It was so loud that they both jumped, causing me to howl with laughter.

 

“You frightened us,” my unborn iell yelled back. “You should not do that to babies.”

 

“Be quiet,” I ordered. “Or else the woodcutter couple will take you both, as soon as you are born.”

 

“I think it was a bad idea to be reborn,” my ion said to his sister. “Our adas do not sound very nice. Did you know that Ada Cirdan has a big long beard? That means you will be born with a beard too.”

 

“Will I be born with a big beard?” my unborn iell asked loudly. I could feel her brother inside me sniggering helplessly. When he was Ereinion he knew that Cirdan shaved, but he was not going to tell his sister that. My iell was Fëanor in her former life and she would have seen him with a beard. It never occurred to Cirdan, until he had suffered a couple of beard related accidents, that he should cut it short. What a happy day it was for me when blades sharp enough to remove hair at the surface of the skin were invented.

 

“That only happens to naughty babies,” Cirdan warned her. “I was a naughty baby and grew a big beard and so will you.”

 

“Well, I don’t want one and I am going to refuse to grow one. So there!” She is so cheeky that already I am incredibly fond of her. “I am not talking to you ever again, and I am not talking to Ada Ereolas or my horrible stinky brother. So there.”

 

“I never want you to talk to me ever again because you are a smelly girl,” my ion said to her. “You are ugly and your face looks like snot.”

 

“Doesn’t my face not look like snot, Ada?” she shouted to us.

 

“How do we know; we cannot see you,” I replied. “Now stop being silly, both of you.”

 

“She started it,” my unborn ion piped up.

 

Before she could answer, I told them very loudly and clearly that I would tolerate no more of their behaviour and they had better be as quiet as a mouse with no shoes on; otherwise, there would be trouble when they were born. Both assured me that they would never speak to each other, or me and Círdan, again. All went silent except for the sound of the faint and furious sucking of thumbs.

 

Cireolas woke up shortly after. His nanny brought him into our bedroom, as she is instructed to do when he wakes in the morning, and he sat with us for our family time before the start of the day.

 

He snuggled his head against his ada’s chest and looked sleepily at me. “Hello, Ada.” He grinned and sucked his thumb. Cirdan lay down and covered them both with the quilt. I cuddled up to them as far as my belly would allow and smiled at my small ion.

 

“Hello, sweet one.” I stroked his cheek with my finger. He smiled and then said hello to Cirdan, who replied good morning to him and ruffled his fluffy mop of tangled blond hair. He screams if we braid it before he goes to bed, so we have to wash it every morning to get the tangles out.

 

We lay in bed for the next half hour and then we had a bath. Cireolas played with his toys, and we helped him swim, made foam beards, and blew bubbles from our hands; all the usual things one does in the bath when there is a small elfling in tow.

 

We then dressed and went to breakfast. Cireolas’ nanny held him; Cirdan says that he is too heavy for me and that I must not tax myself. It is most amusing; he still thinks that I need to be cosseted and that I am extremely delicate. Still, at least he is not choosing my food for me or insisting on the afternoon nap anymore; although, he continues to insist that I do not bathe alone and that I do not stay up too late. I get too tired to stay up late, so that is not a problem.

 

We went to breakfast and Cireolas was made to eat porridge. His nanny would not listen to his protests, and he made the mistake of appealing to my Ada Erestor who told him sternly to do as he was told or else he would take over feeding him. He ate the rest of the bowl without any more complaint. I do not remember Ada being that stern when I was an elfling. Perhaps Mel and I were better behaved.

 

My ion, Thranduil, and his wife, Merilnis, came to visit, arriving during our battle with the idle rich, and then went off to visit Queen Nenuial. He is due back today, so it will be nice to see him again. Celebrían went with them on the spur of the moment, leaving Elrond sex starved and looking hungry. Ah well! He will be one happy elf when she arrives back. I expect we will not see much of him at all later on today.

 

The healers due to attend the conference and grand opening, will start arriving later today and tomorrow, so this is the peace before the storm.

 

I am going to savour every minute of it.

 

 

 

**Part 87 – The New Game**

 

 

We are awash with healers. I would be surprised if there are any left elsewhere in Middle-earth. I think it would be a very bad time for any warrior to be injured, unless they are here in Mithlond. I have kept to my rooms, as I believe the first thing any of the healers will look at is the size of my belly. I do not want to be on display to their enquiring eyes.

 

As protocol demands, I have greeted Saelir in person and the head healer of Lothlórien whose name is Andúnë. She seems pleasant enough, but her eye went straight to my lack of waistline. She apologised immediately, and I saved her any further embarrassment by remarking how hard it was not to notice.

 

Our subjects do not seem to notice my bump; They are used to it and too polite. The idle rich taunted me and called me a freak, and even though that does not happen anymore inside I know that I am not normal at all. I would cut off all appearances until the babies were born, if I could. However, Cirdan says that I would be very lonely and that it would not be good for me. I remind him that he is not the one who looks like a whale.  I do not even feel dangerously sexy anymore. On the other hand, my hair has never looked better.

 

 

o0o0o0o

 

 

Thranduil is back and has been doing his best to amuse me. He answered the door most of the morning, so that I did not have to get up from my chair. Just before lunchtime, Círdan went off to officiate at the new healing block opening ceremony, and took Thranduil with him. The whole of this morning I have felt most uncomfortable. My back aches and the muscle holding my bump keeps going hard. It is not painful, but this did not happen with Cireolas, and so I am wondering if it is usual. I asked Merilnis, who told me that she thinks it is a sign the babies will be born soon, but I know that already, there is only two months to wait.

 

Cirdan showed everyone around the new healing building and, according to him, all of them were very impressed. It is very nearly fully equipped now, the majority of the furnishing being done in the past two weeks. I believe that all we are waiting on some more candleholders and three new beds. We could use the old ones from the castle healing rooms but my only one wants everything to be new. I did not show up at the official opening ceremony. Instead, I sat playing a rather fun new game with the Ladies Aglarien, Erviniae and Inwë. The Stiffy Toy Company has just released it, and you have to buy up different places, like the Fangorn Forest for example, and build houses and hotels over them. As if the trees would be agreeable to that! Each place is represented by a square on the playing board and when others land on your square, they have to pay you according to the property’s worth and how many houses and hotels there are on it. I can see that there would be endless possibilities to cheat, and I bet that there will be many incidences of board wrecking when players lose their money.

 

Aglarien was the banker and she won the game. I had to sell Lothlórien to her halfway through as I was losing heavily. When she won, and was all happy and smiling, she announced that she had played the game before. “Angaráto and I have been playing it all week,” she announced. “Not my fault if you lot have never heard of it before.”

 

“It is not as though we are going to lose our lives if we do not win,” I joked. Erviniae and Inwë were shouting that it was not fair and wanted a rematch. “I do not want to play again; I am tired,” I announced, and sat back against the pillow supporting my back.

 

They left soon after, mainly because I was pointedly and Cirdan had just come back. “Back to bed, meleth,” he said after one particularly big yawn. He put his arm around me and guided me to the bedroom.

 

I had not slept well the previous night, as the bump was most uncomfortable when lying down. Cirdan had not slept well either. He had spent a large portion of the night wedging pillows behind me and rubbing my back. I climbed into bed and lay on my side with a pillow between my legs, as it was more comfortable than not doing so. Cirdan left the room and I shut my eyes. A few minutes later, I felt my him climbing in behind me.

 

“One of the servants will wake us in a couple of hours,” he said and kissed the back of my head.

 

“I am sorry I kept you awake last night,” I said sleep getting the better of me.

 

“It is all right,” he replied. “You could not help it. It must be awful for you at the moment.”

 

“It will be over soon.” I pulled his arm closer round me.

 

“Sleep now.” He kissed me again.

 

We awoke about two hours later. Alassë, Cireolas’ nanny, arrived with him shortly after and told us that Elrohir had read a Hello Vampire story to him in the library.

 

“I love ‘Roh,” Cireolas announced happily. “He love me too. I ask him, and he said yes.”

 

“That’s nice,” Cirdan said, not really listening as he pulled my boots onto my feet.  It is getting quite difficult to bend down without my back being in agony and so he does these things for me.

 

“I walk hundred miles and water garden too.”

 

“How far did you really walk?” Cirdan asked, smiling to himself.

 

“I walk in garden; from swing to flowers, and I water them.”

 

“I hope the roses do not stink of Cireolas pee,” I said as Alassë put him on my lap.

 

“I not stinky.” Cireolas seemed bewildered that his pee should smell anything other than pleasant.

 

Cirdan sighed and I ignored him. I already know his views on watering the flowerbeds and do not want to hear them again. I shifted position and Cirdan immediately took hold of Cireolas. “What are you doing?” I asked.

 

“I thought you were going to stand up,” Cirdan replied, as if meaning behind every movement he makes should be obvious to me. “He is too heavy for you at the moment.”

 

“I was shifting position. I cannot get comfortable no matter how I sit.” I stood up and rubbed my back. “We need to get ready for dinner.”

 

Alassë took Cireolas off Círdan’s lap. “Let’s get you freshened up and changed,” she said to him.

 

“No,” he screeched. “I not have to.”

 

“Only stinky, badly brought up little elflings do not freshen up and change for dinner.” She raised an eyebrow at Cireolas. “You do not want to embarrass your adas, do you?”

 

“I not care,” he replied, vigorously shaking his fluffy blond head.

 

“Well I am certain that your adas will care,” Alassë replied and they both disappeared through the door. I heard in the distance Cireolas saying that he did not care if we cared; so typical of him.

 

We all trooped down to dinner and I took my place next to Cirdan. Thranduil sat next to me, because he likes to sit next to his ada, and Merilnis sat with him. Erestor and Legolas sat next to Círdan and were deep in what sounded a rather scurrilous conversation with Elrond and Celebrían. Elladan and Elrohir sat next to Alassë, who sat Cireolas next to her. Further along the long table sat Saelir, with his new lover, Aikanáro, who I think is one of Thranduil’s advisors. Saelir once had a lover who was killed by a spider bite three hundred years ago, apparently one of the fangs pierced an artery in his neck and he bled to death, not that I am one to gossip. It is an exciting life in Mirkwood. Erviniae and Silimaurë sat next to Saelir, and next to her sat Aglarien and Angaráto. At the other end of the table sat the visiting dignitaries of Lothlórien, who accompanied Andúnë. Celeborn is looking into setting up a healing centre like our one and has sent them along to assess how feasible it will be. I am assuming that Haldir is completely recovered by now, or else I am sure that Andúnë would not have been allowed to make the journey. I wonder if Celeborn still plays doggies with Haldir, moreover, I wonder if Haldir still smacks Celeborn’s arse for being naughty.

 

I had lemon and rosemary sorbet to start. I only ate half of it as I have very little room for food at the moment. Then I had a trout fried with almonds and lemon, with salad and hot new potatoes rolled in butter. After that, I ate mixed berries and cream. It was all delicious but I found it hard to eat more than half. Knowing that Cirdan was watching my intake like a hawk, I ate all the fish as he considers it the most important part of the meal.

 

Cireolas behaved very well, as he always does when he is not with Cirdan or me. He seemed enthralled with Elrohir, while Elladan spent the meal trying to make Alassë blush. Elrond reached along, tapped him on the shoulder, and told him not to be rude at the table. I did not catch any of what he was supposed to have said. I can guess though.

 

We watched the entertainments for as long as I could bear. By now, I felt most uncomfortable. My back was hurting and I could not find ease at all. I whined so much that Cirdan stood up and announced that we were off to bed because I was very tired.

 

We arrived back in our rooms and said goodnight to Cireolas. Alassë was sitting beside him as he told her excitedly about how he was going to be an explorer when he was older and find the source of the cocoa bean. She sniggered as we both did. I wondered where he had heard that term; it is a sexual reference, much in use here in Mithlond. I leave it up to the imagination what it means.

 

“I can discover chocolate,” he announced happily.

 

“One day you will indeed, my ion, but not tonight.” I grinned and kissed his tiny mouth. Cirdan kissed him too and we went to our bedroom unable to contain our tittering.

 

 

 

 

**Part 88 – The Babies are Coming.  
**

 

 

 

 

I had a week of bad nights. It was hard for Cirdan to keep his temper. He kept telling me that everything was all right, but I could tell that it was not. This morning he snapped at Cireolas, who yelled straight back at him. He was impatient with Alassë and made her cry. Immediately after, he apologised and told her that because of me he was not getting any sleep. I listened from the bedroom, becoming increasingly angry. I had also not slept and he was only thinking of himself. He told Alassë to meet us in the Breakfast Hall.

 

My belly muscles kept going hard and then softening. The pain in my back came in waves every few minutes. The pain was becoming intolerable. It was as though a knife were stabbing into each side of my spine. Cirdan stormed into the bedroom. “Are you going to lie in bed all day,” he asked, loud and impatiently.

 

My face creased up with the sharp stab of pain in my back. “I cannot take this anymore.”

 

Círdan’s face softened. He stroked my face. “I think we need to let Elrond know. Forgive me, meleth. I did not realise you were in such discomfort.”

 

“It’s killing me,” I whined and my face creased again with the pain.

 

He shot out of the door and returned minutes later with help.

 

Elrond felt my belly and watched my face as the pain shot through my back again. “Are the pains becoming more frequent?”

 

“Yes,” I gasped, knowing what he was about to say.

 

He grinned, as if enjoying my predicament. “In a few hours you will have two little babies to hold.” He asked my panicking husband to get Saelir and meet us in the new healing building. “Do you still want everything removed so that you cannot have any more babies?” he asked, when Cirdan had gone. I replied that I did not want any more babies and he should remove everything. “Do you think you can walk?” He helped me to sit up.

 

I slowly got out of bed and held on to Elrond for support as the pain shot through my back. He caught me as my legs gave way. “It would be best if I carried you. I do not want you falling down the stairs.”

 

I was beyond caring. I let him guide me back onto the bed. He went to the linen chest and took a thick blanket, which he used to wrap around me. I have no idea why he did that; I wasn’t cold outside. Then he picked me up and carried me down the back stairs, which meant bypassing the public areas of the castle completely.

 

“Stop,” I cried out during another wave of agony.

 

“What’s wrong?” Elrond asked as he stopped dead.

 

“When I get the pain, every movement hurts me even more.” I breathed harshly until the pain subsided.

 

“Tell me when the pain comes and I will stop until you are ready for me to go again.”

 

“All right. I’m ready.”

 

The pain came back on the next flight of stairs down. “Stop,” I shouted.

 

“You could give me some warning,” Elrond barked. “You shouted in my ear. I am the only one here with you. I can even hear a whisper. Well I probably cannot now, as you have deafened me.”

 

“Sorry,” I said. “You can go now.”

 

This was repeated several times during our journey to the ground floor. There was a small expanse of lawn between the door and the healing block. “Make sure no one can sees me,” I urged Elrond.

 

“Don’t be so silly.” With a determined look he ran as fast as he could, with me yelling at him to stop because the pain had come back again. It died down as we reached the healing block entrance.

 

Saelir was already there with Cirdan. Another wave of agony shot through me. I held my breath as it was so sharp. Elrond stopped moving. When the pain receded, he placed me on the bed.

 

“You are worse than an elleth.” Elrond seemed disgusted.

 

I smiled. “At least we got here without you dropping me.”

 

“I do not think that you will ever live that one down, Elrond,” Saelir laughed.

 

It was well known, although he strenuously tried to minimise it, that when Elrond carried Celebrían to the healing rooms, when she was about to give birth, he slipped on a tiny bead lying on the floor just outside the Hall of fire, and dropped her. She stood up, whacked him over the head, and then yelled, “I could have walked myself, moron. You are not helping at all with your panicking.” She was only in the early stages, but to give Elrond his due, he was acting like any prospective ada. He is a healer, but he is also an elf and one would not expect any different. However, it did not hurt to make fun of the incident now and again. Celebrían dined out on the story for at least the next twenty years.

 

I lay on the bed and Saelir gave me some medicine.  “It will not take the pain away,” he said, a grin lighting up his face. “But you will cease to care about it.”

 

“I would not have given him a thing,” Elrond joked. I poked my tongue out at him. “He does not deserve it.”

 

The pain came back, stronger than ever. Cirdan looked alarmed. He kissed my cheek and told me that I would be out of pain soon. Saelir used my distress as an opportunity to feel my belly. “We better get a move on, Elrond,” he said quickly, before telling me that it would all be over very soon.

 

One of the healing assistants helped me to remove my clothing and change into a thin white gown. Meanwhile, Cirdan ran off, at the speed of a just fired arrow, to tell my adas and Thranduil what was happening. The pain came back while the assistant was removing my top and I nearly cried out at the severity of it; however, I am an ex-king and refuse to scream in front of servants.

 

It was a short distance to the Breakfast Hall, so my relatives were not long in coming to see me. Cirdan, Erestor, Legolas, Thranduil and Merilnis kept kissing me, putting their arms around my shoulders, giving me words of encouragement, and trying to console me when the pain hit. Then the pain changed. I felt overwhelmed, as though I had to push. The healing assistant ran off to tell Elrond and came back with Andúnë.

 

“You are in the second stage of labour,” she explained after giving my belly a gratuitous feel and waiting for the next pain. “Elrond and Saelir are nearly ready for you.”

 

“I hope they are not going to be long,” I said, and noticed that I was beginning to feel quite drowsy and not in my full mind. Saelir’s medicine was beginning to work, at long last.

 

“It will be hardly any time at all,” she assured me, before telling my relatives to say goodnight to me, as I would soon be asleep.

 

I was hugged and kissed, again, by all of them. Ada Legolas told me that I would feel fine afterwards; he could hardly speak, he was so concerned. Thranduil said that it broke his heart to see me in so much pain and whispered to me that I should not leave him again. I thought that was particularly touching. Merilnis kissed me and told me that I would be all right. Then Ada Erestor hugged me and kissed me, saying that he would be asking Valar to see me through safely.

 

“I will be fine,” I murmured sleepily. They all remarked how brave I was. I was beyond caring, the medicine was fully in effect, and while the pain came in agonising waves, and my body was racked and extended because of it, the fear was gone.

 

The healing assistant and Andúnë wheeled me into a small side room, letting Cirdan stay beside me. I was given some more medicine, hoping it would work quickly. Cirdan told me that he loved me. He kissed me before standing up to leave. “I will be here when you wake up,” he said and kissed me again before departing.

 

“They are waiting for you,” Andúnë smiled.

 

If I could have felt nervous, I would have done. As it was, I felt nothing at all. I was beyond feeling.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	33. Part 89 – The Babies are Here! Part 90 – My Over-Titled Twins. Part 91 – Cireolas' Birthday and His New Song. Part 92 – Caught After the Orgy. Part 93 – Explaining Myself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Babies are born. Círdan and Ereolas present their babies. Cireolas sings the potty song. Ereolas is woken very early by Thranduil who has something to show him. Ereolas is slapped by Celebrían for allowing an artist to paint her whilst nude and drunk. Erestor is not happy with Ereolas.

**Part 89 – The Babies are Here!  
**

 

I was wheeled into the room that I prefer not to know anything about. I find it a scary place to be, having been there several times in the past and not enjoying the experience at all. Elrond was there, and so was Saelir. A few others were in the room; I assumed they would be helping, not that I was able to notice anything but impressions. A flash of steel on a cloth-covered tray caught my attention, and it vaguely occurred to my befuddled brain that it would be used on me.

 

Saelir was calling my name, but a thick mental fog hovered over me and I could not respond. The pain had disappeared and all I could feel was a cold wetness spreading over my belly and the sound of quiet voices. I was beyond caring. It was most strange; I was not asleep, and yet I could feel no pain at all. However, I could feel every soft touch, which for a fleeting instance I wondered about before letting go again. A hand held my wrist; I could feel it, and yet I felt nothing when cut open. The sensation of tugging and pulling did not bother me at all because I was unable to give any thought to it. There was someone behind me; I think it was Andúnë. She spoke to me, mainly whenever I turned my head, but I did not understand what she was saying. Everything was hazy and distant. I felt warm, relaxed, comfortable and sleepy. The action of the medicine made it hard to see anything properly but there seemed to be a lot of white around me. I thought that the elves attending me must be wearing white, and then my mind flitted elsewhere. Perhaps it just as well that my vision was hazy and my reasoning hardly existent, considering what was happening to my body. In the end, I must have fallen asleep because I remember nothing else.

 

According to Círdan , I was asleep when I came out of the room. I awoke in bed and in pain. It was not as bad as the previous pain, but I felt exhausted and it was too much. Saelir and Elrond came to see me. They said I had two rather small, but otherwise healthy babies. I was given some medicine for the pain and they both looked at my belly and pronounced themselves extremely pleased.

 

“We need you to do a wee,” Elrond said. “To make sure everything is working properly. You do not have to do it right now though.”

 

I thanked them and they left the room to collect my babies and bring them in to see me. Both were asleep. Ereodan had blond fluffy wisps of hair and our tiny iell had a mass of black hair. I wondered what the reborn Ereinion would think about having blond hair.

 

“They are beautiful, aren’t they?” Círdan  said smiling. “There is no right time to tell you this, melethen, so I will tell you now. Elrond and Saelir had to remove everything because it was damaged by the labour. We will not be able to have any more elflings. It will take you longer to recover, but do not worry I will look after you.”

 

We had discussed this before and I had told him that I did not want any more elflings. He was agreeable but nothing had been set in stone, and we had not talked about it lately. “After today, I would have dreaded having any more,” I told him. “I am glad they removed everything.”

 

“I must admit, in spite of everything, I would have liked a few more elflings.” I looked shocked and Círdan hastily told me that he was joking.

 

I kept drifting in and out of sleep. My only one  remained by my side. Alassë brought Cireolas in to see us. He looked at the tiny babies, still fast asleep in their crib before giving me a big kiss on the cheek. He seemed fascinated.

 

“Can I have one of babies?” he asked with the sweetest smile.

 

“They are real babies, not dolls,” I replied and smiled back. “They are your brother and sister.”

 

“What baby names?” he asked.

 

“Your brother’s name is Ereodan and your sister does not have a name yet,” Círdan  replied. He hugged Cireolas to him.

 

“Call baby Cirrus?” he asked. We laughed and explained that Cireolas was his name and for him only.

 

“I miss adas today,” he told us. “I water flowers and poo in potty. No wear nappy today.”

 

Alassë confirmed that Cireolas was correct. “I will put a nappy on him overnight though,” she added.

 

“No, I not wear one. I big now,” Cireolas said quickly. Alassë shook her head.

 

“You are still becoming big and so you will need to wear a nappy at night for a little while longer.”

 

“No, I not wear one!”

 

“I think you must be very tired to talk to me like that, young Cireolas, and so I think we should put you to bed without any dinner.” Alassë held out her arms. “Come on.”

 

“I be good,” Cireolas used his plaintive voice, which normally works on his adas.

 

“I am relying on you to be a big elfling and be very good,” I said to my small ion. “I will be very proud if you are.”

 

“Who knows, if you become very good, all of the time, you may even become a prince again.” Círdan  ruffled his fluffy blond hair.

 

“I be good all of time.” Cireolas beamed and held his arms up to Alassë. “We go dinner now?”

 

“Yes, we will go to dinner. Give your adas a kiss.” She held him out so he could give Círdan and me a kiss each.

 

On the way out, we heard Cireolas say to Alassë, “You not tell when I bad. I want be prince again.”

 

“Adas always know when their elflings have been naughty. No one has to tell them, they just know,” Alassë replied. She really is very good with him, and I like how omnipotent she makes us appear. It appeals to my vanity.

 

“Are you going to go and eat some dinner?” I asked Círdan .

 

“Meleth, I am staying with you. They serve food here, sent from the kitchens,” Círdan  replied. “Do you feel up to eating? I can get you a drink.”

 

“I would like a hot drink.” I smiled as he stood up.

 

“Back in a minute.” He went through the door and came back a short time later. “There, it is done.” He sat back down beside me.

 

I looked at my tiny babies and saw that my iell was opening her eyes. She saw me and shouted, “Ada!” whilst holding her tiny arms up. Círdan picked her up and placed her in my arms. “Hello,” she giggled. What ada could not fall instantly in love with such a beautiful elfling?

 

“Would you call me Jeli?” she asked.

 

“As in the dessert?” I replied, thinking that I was most amusing. She nodded that I was wrong and so I asked what her proposed name meant.

 

“I don’t know,” she replied with a little twinkle sparkling in her beautiful blue eyes. “I just like the sound of it.”

 

Círdan  laughed and said it solved the problem of a name for her. “Thank you,” she said sweetly and sucked her thumb. I put her to my nipple and she suckled for a few minutes before falling asleep. Her ada put her back in the crib next to her brother.

 

“I think I have fallen in love all over again.” Círdan  grinned. “She is adorable.”

 

“She is lovely,” I agreed.  “They are both lovely.” I was totally smitten with my tiny iell; she promised to be a lot of fun as she grew up. I was waiting for tiny Ereodan to wake up, so that I could say hello to him and see if he was just as exuberant.

 

“I think we are enjoying the calm before the storm, meleth.” Círdan  kissed my cheek. He laid his head on the pillow beside mine. “Thank you for making me an ada of three beautiful elflings.”

 

I smiled. “I bet you did not think that you would have elflings this late in your life?”

 

“I never dare to hope for any such thing.” He kissed me again. “You have made my life complete. I am the happiest elf in Middle-earth.” I grinned and kissed him back. “I mean it,” he said. “I have a husband whose beauty rivals that of a Valar and three little elflings; what more could I ask for?”

 

“I love you so much.” I smiled sleepily. “I have you and that is all I need. The elflings are a happy blessing.”

 

“They are a blessing that I would not do without,” Círdan replied, brushing his hand over my hair.

 

Círdan’s meal arrived, and there was a pot of tea and some soup and ice cream for me. “Saelir said that you could have something light. I asked them to put the soup in a cup for you, so you could hold it easier.”

 

“Thank you.” I took a sip of the ham and lentil soup, not my favourite flavour, but it tasted good and warmed my insides. I ate a tiny bit of the raspberry ice cream and finished the cup of tea. My eyelids grew heavy and I knew I could not stay awake for much longer.

 

“You are looking tired. Sleep now, melethen. I will stay by your side.” Círdan stroked my head and I felt myself relax further.

 

I slept for about an hour. When I awoke, I saw that it was twilight through the window. Candles had been lit and spread around the room. Círdan was still beside me. “Hello, sweet one,” he said softly to me. “Your Ada’s, Mel, Glorfindel, Thranduil, Merilnis, and Celebrían all came to see you. They left when they saw you were asleep.” He stroked the side of my face. “They will come back when they are sure you are awake.”

 

We talked for a while and Círdan told me that Elrond had checked on the babies again. He had also given me some more medicine. I do not remember him doing so; however, he must have done because when I woke up I was in no pain. I felt relaxed and comfortable, a feeling that I relished as I had not felt that way for ages. After a while, my adas came in to see me together with, Mel, Glorfindel, Merilnis, Thranduil and Celebrían. They all remarked how lovely the twins were and how well I looked. The relief in their faces was palpable. Ereodan and Jeli slept throughout the visit. Celebrían took the opportunity to tell Elrond, when he came into the room, that she would desired another child. The look on his face reduced us all into fits of laughter. He told her to ask him again in fifty years.

 

My visitors did not stay very long. I needed to wee and still felt very tired. They all hugged and kissed me, before promising to visit the next day. I have not been kissed so much since Cireolas was born.

 

The healing assistant gave me a glass bottle to pee in. I could see my willy! I have not been able to see it for the past three months because of the bump. I felt very slim, even though I was not, and cared little about the loose skin and general flabbiness of my belly. I could see my willy, and it was as glorious as ever. There was a huge dressing over the lower part of my belly obscuring part of the view, but I could see most of it.

 

“Look Círdan.” I beamed. “I can see my willy!” He was not impressed and told me that he could see his own willy everyday if he wanted to. “Yes I know, but I could not see it because of the bump.” He replied that I could have used a mirror. Obviously, he just did not understand how exciting it was to see my old friend again.

 

It is strange what one hold precious. Círdan thought my excitement was most amusing, but told me to stop as there were two impressionable elflings in the room.

 

I managed to pee and the bottle was taken away. Ereodan woke and started to cry, so Círdan picked him up and gave him to me. I uncovered my chest and let him suckle from my nipple. Afterwards, the healing assistant took him from me, changed his nappy and then gave him back. I am glad that I did not have to do it.

 

“Hello, little Ereodan,” I said and stroked his small head.

 

“Hello.” He smiled sleepily and waved his tiny hand. His eyelids flickering as he lost the battle to stay awake and fell into a deep sleep.

 

“He is adorable.” Círdan stroked his fluffy blond head.

 

“I think we have been very lucky.” I gave Ereodan back to Círdan to put in the crib.

 

All in all, I felt very happy. The pain relief was working; I was not pregnant anymore, nor ever likely to be again; my husband was being very attentive to my needs; my elflings seemed to be many times better than I had expected, and, most important of all, I COULD SEE MY WILLY!!!

 

What more could I ask for?

 

 

 

  
**Part 90 – My Over-Titled Twins**

 

We remained in the healing rooms for the next four days, mainly because the twins were so small that Elrond and Saelir were reluctant to let them out of their sight. At first they both lost weight, and it was not until they had made up the loss that they were able to go back to our apartment. Because Jeli and Ereodan are so tiny, it will be a few weeks before they are strong enough to be presented to the Valar for their blessing and approval. Normally they are presented within a couple of days of their birth, so we are breaking with tradition. I am sure the Valar will understand.

 

The day after we took the twins back to our rooms, they were officially presented to the court. Círdan and I declared them as our offspring, a throwback to ancient days when it became a legal requirement. The law is still in place, so we have to abide by it. Without the ceremony, neither twin would be able to claim any inheritance or title. Círdan presented them with the title of Lord and Lady of Mithlond of the House of Lord Círdan, High King of the Teleri, and of his joint ruler, Lord Ereolas, Prince of Mirkwood, Lord of Mithlond and Imladris, of the line of King Thranduil and of the High King Ereinion Gil-Galad. Ada Erestor is the legal heir to Ereinion’s title, but he has never used it and does not wish to, so Gil-Galad is named as head of the line instead. Even though Ada does not use the title, he is still the high king, whether he wants to acknowledge it or not. If he abdicated, Mel would inherit the title, and we all know where that might lead. Thranduil declared that the twins were also legally of his line and gave them the title of Prince and Princess of Mirkwood, of the House of Thranduil. Elrond followed by granting them the title of Lord and Lady of Imladris. When I was reborn, I was declared a Lord of Imladris through my Ada Erestor, who is a Lord of Imladris as well.

 

 My vastly over-titled babies slept through most of the ceremony. I suppose ones who were high kings in their former lives cannot be expected to exhibit excitement at such things, or maybe it was because they were five days old and slept a lot of the time anyway. The scribes representing the various realms presented the official title scrolls. The circlets of state, intertwined with the jewelled symbols of the three realms, were placed upon their sleepy heads. Then the babies were unwrapped from their blankets and were shown to the court. Jeli wore a tiny, all-in-one suit of pink silk with tiny appliqué vampire-fanged bunnies on the front. She opened her eyes briefly and then went back to sleep. I smiled as those in attendance sighed with delight. Then Ereodan was presented. He wore a purple suit with a Hello Vampire appliqué on the front and little bats on the sleeves. Both suits were a present from Mel. The audience nearly swooned with happiness at little Ereodan as he sleepily waved to them. Nearly all of them waved back.

 

“I am bored now; can I go and play on the swings?” Cireolas asked loudly. The audience tittered.

 

“The ceremony is nearly over and we are going to have trifle soon,” Círdan explained.

 

“It not fair. Want to be prince too.” Cireolas was near to tears and looking very sad.

 

“I am sure that if you behave yourself you will become a prince again,” Círdan replied softly.

 

I good all time since a week,” Cireolas use his plaintive, hard done by voice.

 

“I tell you what,” Círdan bargained. “If you can be extremely good for the next week then you can have your title back. All right?”

 

“I be good for ever,” Cireolas replied happily. I raised my eyebrows at such an obvious lie.

 

Refreshments were served immediately afterwards. Cireolas ate some trifle. I sat on the chair next to him, and he babbled happily about becoming a prince again.

 

“Now remember, melethen,” Círdan said as he placed Jeli on my lap. “No standing up with her. I do not want you to strain yourself.”

 

It is useless arguing with him. For a peaceful life, I agreed. He thinks that because I am still healing, I might damage myself. He is wrong. I have tried pointing out that most ellyth start carrying their babies straightaway, but he reminded me that I am an ellon and that I have been cut open and half my insides have been removed.

 

Círdan gave Ereodan to Alassë and picked Cireolas up from his chair. Jeli chose that moment to wake up. “What is happening, Ada?” she asked and smiled.

 

I kissed her cheek and smiled back. “We are all having tea and cakes after the Ceremony of Declaration.”

 

“Who was being declared?” she asked and grinned with wet dribbly lips.

 

“You and Ereodan received your official titles and inheritance recognition.”

 

“I must have been asleep,” she said and looked to me for confirmation. “Could we do it all again, now that I am awake?”

 

“I am sorry, we cannot, sweet one. But you are wearing a rather lovely circlet.” I took it from her head and showed it to her. She held it in her tiny hands and marvelled at the tiny gemstone rainbows, trees and mermaids.

 

“It is very pretty,” she said. “Please put it back on my head.” I did as she asked. She pointed to her sleeping brother and told me that he had a circlet the same as hers.

 

The Lady Aglarien walked over to us, with a small bag made of woven ribbons hanging from her fingers. She sat down and said hello to Jeli. “I have a little present for you,” she said and reached into the bag to retrieve a small, decorated suitcase. Inside was a tiny white teddy wearing a crown and a cape, with the Stiffy Toy Company tag studded on its ear. “It is a princess teddy for a little princess.”

 

“Thank you,” Jeli said and took it in her hands. “I want to call it Ereolas Teddy.”

 

“Ereolas is not a girly name.” Agie laughed. “But I suppose you can call it whatever you like.”

 

“I love Ada, and now I have Ereolas Teddy.” Jeli smiled. She cuddled the toy close and then she kissed it.

 

Agie and I sat talking for a while and then Ereodan woke up. Agie took a brown suitcase out of her bag and inside was another Stiffy Toy Company teddy. It was squishy and felt as though it was filled with small beads. “Thank you,” he smiled and looked shyly at her gift. “It’s soft.”

 

“What are you going to call your teddy?” Agie asked.

 

“I don’t know,” he replied and then gave a big beaming smile. “I will ask Ada to help me pick a name.”

 

Of the two, Ereodan seems the quieter and less outgoing. They have not proved yet to be the dreadful little babies we thought they would be. I hope they continue as they are. I do not think that I could manage another two elflings of the same order of cheekiness as their older brother.

 

So far, we are doing all right.

 

 

 

**Part 91 – Cireolas' Birthday and His New Song.**

 

 

 

Cireolas tried very hard with his behaviour last week, so Círdan gave him his prince title back. He has been noticeably happier since, and I think he will be even more so today when we give him his first birthday presents.

 

Alassë put him in the bath very early this morning after giving me the twins to feed. They awoke hungry and Ereodan was crying so hard, he did not realise that I had plugged him on and his food source was actually in his mouth. Jeli was not so bad but her lower lip was wibbling and she was about to start howling. The tears were already forming in her eyes. Cireolas used to do that too; he would awake panicking and cry, which is understandable for one who is not reborn. However, the twins are reborn and can make their needs known, so I wonder why they cry when they wake up.

 

After their feed, they went straight back to sleep in their crib. Círdan and I had a short cuddle and he insisted on sucking my nipples to see if there was any milk left. We would have gone further, but with two babies in the room, even though they were both asleep, it was not advisable. Instead, Círdan ran a bath. He insisted that I stay in bed and keep warm while it was being filled. Normally Cireolas would get in the bath with us, but he has discovered the delights of his own bathroom. Until the novelty wears off, I expect he will continue to bathe there. I sat in the bath and Círdan passed our little babies to me, so we could give them a quick wash. They stayed asleep. We wrapped them up in towels and put them on the padded baby mat while we quickly washed ourselves. According to Saelir, they will continue to sleep for long periods for the next couple of months because they were born early. We are taking full advantage of the peace.

 

We dressed the babies and ourselves. Then we went into the large living room, where we receive guests and official visitors. We also have a smaller, private living room that is reserved for family; however, today is Cireolas’ birthday, so we will be using the larger room.

 

Mel and Glorfindel were up nice and early and they brought with them a large sack of presents. The door at the end of the room opened and Cireolas did a rather wobbly nude run across the room. “Unca Mel, Unca Fin,” he yelled. “I been in bath.”

 

Mel picked him up and swung him around, while Glorfindel sat on the sofa and grinned. My elder brother held our naked ion up high and said, “Who do those feet belong to?”

 

“My feet,” Cireolas giggled.

 

“I am going to eat your feet.” Mel quickly caught Cireolas’ left foot in his mouth.

 

Cireolas squealed with laughter. I tried to tell Mel that my ion was not fully potty trained yet, but somehow the words were lost in the squealing. I knew it would happen, and when the thin golden stream hit Mel’s face I howled with laughter, as did Fin and Círdan.

 

“Ewww! Cireolas,” Mel said. “You peed on my face.”

 

Cireolas was laughing so hard he could do nothing. Mel’s face was a picture. He put Cireolas on Glorfindel’s knee and rushed out the room to our bathroom.

 

“That was funny, wasn’t it?” Glorfindel said to Cireolas.

 

“I do it again?” Cireolas said eagerly.

 

“Make that the last time,” Fin advised our little ion. “Or else no one will believe it was an accident.” He took the clothes that Alassë had brought in and dressed him.

 

“Unca Mel got wet.” Cireolas laughed as he put his arms through his woolly jumper.

 

A few minutes later, Mel came back into the room after having washed.  “Hope you don’t mind,” he said to me. “I borrowed one of your shirts.” He sat down beside Glorfindel and took Cireolas from him. “Guess what today is?”

 

“Don’t know,” Cireolas replied.

 

“It is your birthday,” Mel told him. “You are one year old today, so we have bought you some presents.”

 

“Happy Birthday!” we all sang to him.

 

“What is birthday?” he asked, obviously confused. I have no idea how he forgot because I discussed it with him last week. Elflings do not normally forget they are going to receive presents.

 

“Every year you become a year older and we celebrate it. You have one birthday a year and you receive presents.” I explained. Because Cireolas was born early, his second begetting day is not for a couple of months yet. On the first one, I was too ill to celebrate it with him. On the second, we will have a small celebration so that he knows both days are important. Normally begetting days and birthdays are the same day.

 

“Presents?” he said, his little eyes nearly popping out of his head. “I love presents.”

 

My adas arrived at that point with Thranduil and Merilnis. “Happy Birthday,” they all cheered. Cireolas was incredibly happy; he was the centre of attention, which was good because for the past two and a half weeks everyone’s focus had been on the twins. Círdan had spent a lot of time with our ion, making him feel special but he was still aware that he was not at the centre anymore.

 

Jeli started to whine, so Alassë took her off and changed her nappy. When she came back into the room, she was wide-awake.

 

“It my birthday,” Cireolas said to her. “I got presents.”

 

“Happy Birthday.” Jeli took her thumb out of her mouth and puckered her lips to give him a kiss. He gave her a kiss and everyone sighed with delight because both were so cute.

 

“Jeli and Ereodan got you some birthday presents,” I said quickly, before he could ask.

 

“We did?” Jeli exclaimed in surprise.

 

“Yes you did,” I said rather pointedly.

 

“Oh!” she gave us a cheeky smile and put her thumb back in her mouth.

 

Círdan took our youngest ion from the crib and sat him on his lap. “Ereodan,” he said softly. “Wake up little one. Cireolas is going to open his presents.” It took a couple of minutes for the little sleepyhead to wake up and he sucked his thumb loudly.

 

“Ereodan has bought you this,” I gave a wrapped present to Cireolas. He tore the paper off and inside was a snow globe with a model of Cireolas sitting on a stag, being led by Elrohir, who is his soul mate. Meanwhile, Ereodan looked confused and stared straight up at Círdan who told him to say nothing.

 

I gave Jeli’s present to Cireolas. He unwrapped a jack in the box. He looked at it for a few seconds, then the top flipped back, causing Cireolas to jump with surprise. The small elfling inside the box, who looked exactly like Cireolas, sprang up with a loud squeak. My little ion looked shocked, so Mel quickly told him how funny the box was. It was as if he needed to be told how to react to it. For a moment, I thought he might burst into tears.

 

Next, Mel and Glorfindel gave him their presents. Cireolas received the Hello Vampire special gift set for young princes who want to be vampires, which I suspect Mel and Glorfindel had ordered exclusively for Cireolas. It had a Hello Vampire outfit, pyjamas, slippers, shoes, wig, accessories, disguise kit and a book on how to be a vampire. The next present was a Hello Vampire themed mug, bowl and spoon breakfast set and a lunchbox that had several different compartments for different types of food. Next, he unwrapped a large teddy, which said “Hello Cireolas,” when its tummy was poked, and then he unwrapped a huge gift set of different candies from all over Middle-earth. The last present was a set of braid clasps in the shape of vampire bunnies and bats, all inlaid with black and white diamonds. I swear that Mel and Fin have more money they know what to do with.

 

Cireolas was delighted with his presents and was even happier when Erestor and Legolas gave him a new circlet made to match the hair clasps that Mel and Fin had given him. Next, he unwrapped a large three-foot high teddy made of chocolate. I have never seen so much chocolate in my life; it is extremely rare in these parts and only exists in limited supply where it is grown. After that, Cireolas unwrapped a tiny bow and arrow set, which Ada Legolas had carved himself. Anyone who receives a handmade bow from Legolas is very lucky indeed. They fire straight and true and are works of art.

 

“I can kill things with this,” Cireolas beamed while   my mad husband beamed proudly and confirmed that he could.

 

Thranduil and Merilnis gave Cireolas the Fëanor and family, fully poseable dolls collection set. He had been collecting them but they were now a bit bedraggled and the accessories were missing. The dolls had been loved to bits, literally. They also gave him a handcrafted sword with his name on that was studded with pink, blue, yellow and green gemstones. The blade was blunt and there was no point on the tip of the sword but Cireolas thought it was a real and that was all that mattered.

 

“I can kill warg now,” Cireolas said joyfully. He pranced about the room with the blade unsheathed and stabbed it against one of the chairs.

 

“Come here, Cireolas,” Mel said. “Never draw your sword unless you intend to fight with it or your portrait is being painted.”

 

“I kill chair,” Cireolas shouted, a huge grin plastered over his face. Mel guided the blade back into the scabbard.

 

“I would advise that you do no such thing; chairs have feelings too,” Círdan said, hopefully with his fingers crossed. “Would you like your presents from your Ada and me now?”

 

“I got more?” Cireolas was beside himself with joy. “Yes, please!”

 

We bought Cireolas a rocking horse. It was made from a horse that had died in an accident and so the owner had the skin stuffed and the legs put in a jumping position. The taxidermist displayed it in his window and we saw it while riding past in our carriage. “That would make a good rocking horse,” Círdan said and ordered the carriage to stop. He went inside and the owner informed him that it was a private commission. Within the hour, we had visited the owner and bought the horse from him for an outrageous price. It was a simple matter for the Stiffy Toy Company to collect it and turn it into a plaything. The horse is mounted on springs, as a more traditional type might be dangerous for one so young, but it can be adapted later.

 

“It huge,” Cireolas said, his eyes alight with joy. “It real horse.” He jumped up and down with excitement and fell over. He was all right; he falls over all the time, although his jumping and running skills are definitely improving. Círdan picked him up and put him on the saddle.

 

“Hold on tight.” Círdan put the reins in my ion’s hand. Keeping a hand on Cireolas’ back, he gently bounced the horse up and down with his hand.

 

“I ride real horse,” Cireolas cried out to us all. “Look at me. I ride real horse. I go fast.” I do not think I have ever seen him so excited or joyful. It made the other presents from us pale in comparison. When Círdan asked if he wanted to open them, he said that he wanted to ride his horse.

 

“It is breakfast time,” I said to Cireolas. “You can play on your horse later.”

 

“I not hungry,” Cireolas squealed. “I ride horse ‘til next week.”

 

Círdan lifted him off the horse. “We all need to have something to eat,” he said grinning at our ion’s enthusiasm.

 

“I went fast,” Cireolas said and beat his little fists up and down with joy.

 

“Open your other presents.” Círdan gave him a small flat parcel.

 

Inside was a warrior outfit complete with tiny armour. “It for riding horsey.” Cireolas beamed. He also opened a small baby dagger with a locked hilt, because even a blunt one can do some damage. All elflings wear weapons, so they become used to wearing them.  I had no idea that Thranduil was going to give Cireolas a sword, so he received one from us as well. “I wear both swords,” he announced excitedly. We also bought him some soft toys, a selection of baby bath animals, a toddler swing, baby ornaments for his bedroom, wooden bricks, a toy village with farm animals and a straw hat he saw in the baby shop and asked for. I do not know why he wanted a straw hat but he was very pleased with it and wore it for breakfast.

 

We saw Elrond, Celebrían, Elladan and Elrohir at breakfast. Elrond and Celebrían gave Cireolas a puppet that looked like him and was wearing a jumper with ‘Cireolas’ emblazoned across the chest. “It look like me,” our little ion squealed. He put his hand up the puppet’s butt and Elrond showed him how to make the mouth work. “It great. I love it. Look Ada, it mouth open and it now close.”

 

Cireolas was so excited that he started to jump up and down. Elladan gave him a catapult and showed him how to work it. “You could break some windows if you put a stone in it,” he told my impressionable ion.

 

“We try after breakfast?” Cireolas asked.

 

“Do not encourage him, Elladan,” Elrond said. “Cireolas does not want to lose his prince title again. Do you little one?”

 

“No,” Cireolas answered looking incredibly innocent. “I not break window yet.”

 

Elrohir gave Cireolas a kite. “Unca Mel got kite too,” he said excitedly. “I be like Unca Mel.”

 

After breakfast, Elrohir took Cireolas out into the garden and they flew his kite. It was a very happy day for him. To cap it all off, in the afternoon we showed him his final present. “Because you are a prince you can have your own little throne next to ours,” Círdan told him.

 

The new glassmakers, down the end of the bay, had made him a glass throne to sit in between our thrones in the Hall of the Crystal Thrones. Ours are made of crystal, hence, the title of the Hall. Cireolas’ tiny throne has latticework, pineapples and acanthus leaves for decoration. It is very ornate, and I expect that our two other children will want one when they see it.

 

“That mean I am real prince.” Cireolas sat on the dark blue velvet cushion. “It fit my bum,” he squeaked with delight.

 

There was a big cake and even more presents at his birthday party in the evening. He wore a dark red velvet suit with gold trim and little gold boots. We put a matching dark ruby circlet on his head and ruby braid clasps in his hair. “I look great,” he said as I fixed the sword belt to his waist. “Thank you for my presents.” He kissed my face. “You get me lovely ones.”

 

The day was a success, and of that I was glad. In the end, it was a very sleepy little elfling who ended up in his Ada Círdan’s lap. The party continued around him as he fell asleep. The babies had left the party much earlier, and Alassë had put them to bed.

 

We departed and took our little ion up to our apartment. He woke up as we went through the bedroom door and smiled. “I learn new song today,” he said.

 

“Really?” I said.

 

“Why don’t you sing it to us?” Círdan suggested, while helping Cireolas on with his pyjamas.

 

“Errudan and Jeli sing it to me. It called potty song. It song for elfling when using potty,” he said.

 

Back in the distant past, when elves were not so refined, there was a song that parents taught their elflings to encourage them to use their potties. I sang it as a toddler and so, apparently, did Fëanor and Ereinion. I thought the song was lost forever, but I was wrong.

 

“There’s a little poo poo, small and brown,

Coming out my bum bum and falling down,

Into my potty, floating face up,

Wipe my bum with a leaf and pull my leggings up.

It good song,” Cireolas said happily. “I sing it all time now.”

 

“We do not wipe our bums with leaves,” Círdan said. “Even years ago we used bits of material that the laundry washed.”

 

“Only in certain kingdoms,” I corrected him. “In most realms they used leaves. Only in Lothlórien and Mithlond did they use material.”

 

“That is repulsive,” Círdan said.

 

“So is cleaning shit off a rag, especially if it is not your own,” I retorted. “When I was growing up, an elf found a way to make cheap paper out of wood from fallen trees and we used that instead.”

 

“You used paper?” Círdan was incredulous.

 

“When you visited the Greenwood we gave you material strips because we thought that was what you preferred.” I informed him. “They were burnt afterwards, not washed.”

 

We now use pads of compressed fibres from the cotton fluff tree. It is not a true cotton, but looks like it is. The fibrous blossoms are compressed into soft thick pads and we use them to wipe ourselves. The fluff resists all attempts to spin it and paper made from the fibres falls apart, so it has no other use. However, the pads degrade within weeks when wet and make very good fertiliser. We have very rich crops around Mithlond. The fluff blocks the plumbing when flushed, so we throw them in bins next to the toilet, which are emptied and cleaned by the toilet elves every day. The pay is so good that there is a waiting list to become one. When Círdan visited me in the Greenwood, we supplied strips of material for him because we thought it was his preference, but even when I was a king, using leaves or paper did not bother me one bit, so long as I was clean.

 

Círdan sighed and decided to ignore my little barb. He put Cireolas in his new bed with engraved side panels to stop him from falling out. “Sleep well, my little birthday boy,” I said and kissed him goodnight. “Love you.”

 

“Love you too,” Cireolas said and smiled. “I ride horsey tomorrow.”

 

Círdan knelt down and tickled our little ion before kissing him goodnight.”Sleep well little one. I love you.”

 

“I love you, Ada” Cireolas said and smiled. I sat by his bed until he fell asleep.

 

“Meleth, come here,” Círdan whispered and pointed to the twins shared cot. They were sleeping with their arms around one another.

 

“They are so sweet.” I looked at them fondly.

 

Círdan put his arm around me and kissed my cheek. “I wonder what other songs they know.”

 

 

**Part 92 – Caught After the Orgy**

 

 

The morning after Cireolas’ birthday party, I lay in bed and dreamt that I could hear knocking. I opened my eyes and snuggled closer to Círdan, who smiled with his eyes shut. He pulled me to him and kissed my lips.

 

“Good morning, Melethen,” he said as he ran his fingers through the blond curls at the base of my willy, which I am still delighted to be able to see again. I positioned my leg over his hip and took hold of him. The knocking started again. “We can’t have sex yet, Meleth. Not until Saelir or Elrond say you can; you know that.” He smiled, kissed the end of my nose before throwing the blankets off his side of the bed. “Who is knocking at this time of the morning?”

 

He went into the formal living room and answered the door. I heard Thranduil asking to see me, so I went to see what he wanted.

 

“Sit down, Meleth.” Círdan said. “Really you should have stayed in bed an extra hour.”

 

“I am all right,” I said sleepily and looked at Thranduil expectantly.

 

“Ada, I would like you to come with me and see something for yourself,” Thranduil said conspiratorially. “It will be of much use to you.”

 

“Do I have to get dressed?” I asked, yawning.

 

“Can’t it wait?” Círdan asked, obviously not in the happiest of moods. “Ereolas has just woken up and he is still recovering.”

 

“He has only had a couple of babies,” Thranduil remonstrated. “Ellyth do it all the time.”

 

“Let us stop this before it becomes an argument,” I interrupted. “Círdan you can come with us and ensure my safety.”

 

I stood up and my unhappy husband told me to put my house slippers on so that I did not catch a chill. Thranduil smirked.

 

“It is no laughing matter,” Círdan reminded me because I grinned. “Elrond and Saelir have still not given you a clean bill of health.”

 

“They will soon,” I said with a tolerant smile, while tying the belt of an unnecessarily thick housecoat Círdan had given me to wear. “Let’s go.”

 

We trooped down the stairs to the rooms my Adas were occupying. Thranduil pushed open the door slightly. How useful was the scene that met my eyes!

 

Ada Erestor was sprawled naked on the bed. Elrond lay on his front next to him, with his hand on Ada’s chest. Ada Legolas lay next to Ada Erestor with his arm around Celebrían, his hand cupping one of her tits. Aikanáro lay next to Celebrían, an arm cradling her buttocks and his head close to her breasts, while Saelir lay next to Elrond with his hand over the great Lord’s cock.

 

Círdan grinned and slowly shut the door.  “Thank you,” I whispered to Thranduil.

 

“I thought that you would appreciate seeing it,” he grinned.

 

“Who should we announce that we are taking to our bed in the near future, meleth?” Círdan said softly, his face full of mischief.

 

“Get the court artist,” I said, my eyes lighting up.

 

“I have already thought of that, Ada,” Thranduil said. “He has made his sketches and is busy in his studio.”

 

What a smart ion I have; he is just as devious as I am.

 

We went back to our rooms. Thranduil explained that he had gone to see Elrond about visiting him next year. The room was empty, and so he had gone to Erestor’s rooms to see if he knew where Elrond might be. It was then he had seen them all asleep and thought I should know. He woke the court artist and told him to make sketches and then paint them. The artist was a bit wary but Thranduil reassured him that they were all drunk and would not wake easily.

 

Círdan went into the babies’ bedroom. It was so early, they were still asleep. He picked them up and brought them to me for their breakfast. There were hungry and sucked as though their lives depended on it.

 

“Will your tits stay like that forever?” Thranduil asked, trying not to look.

 

“Only if they have milk in them,” I replied.  “They go back to normal when the milk stops. There is no trace on Legolas that he fed me and Mel.”

 

“Well he didn’t feed you for long because you were such a little bastard,” Thranduil laughed. “And Mel refused to drink milk, saying that it was gross to drink other people’s body fluids.”

 

“Mel still won’t drink milk,” I said with a grin. “Legolas used to express it and the cook made it into ice cream. Mel had no idea what he was eating.”

 

My little babies started to waver, letting go of the nipple and then scrabbling for it. In the end, they fell back to sleep and Círdan put them back in their crib. Cireolas woke up. He came into the room and sat with Thranduil, who told him amusing stories of when he put poo in my shoes when he was a little elfling. I had a very quick bath with Círdan, because he will still not let me bathe on my own, just in case I faint with the heat. I dressed and then went into the living room.

 

“I put poo in your shoes tomorrow,” Cireolas said to me.

 

“It is meant to be a surprise,” Thranduil said to him. “You can’t do it now. Your ada will know who did it.”

 

“Oh!” Cireolas said putting his hand against his mouth. “You not tell me that.” He waggled his index finger in Thranduil’s face and giggled.

 

I sat next to my ionen. “Are you going to have a bath little one?”

 

“I not bath anymore,” Cireolas replied. “It make me wet.”

 

“You will be a stinky little elfling,” Thranduil said. Cireolas replied that he did not care.

 

Círdan settled it by taking our little ion and putting him in the bowl on the washstand.

 

“You could get Alassë to bathe him,” Thranduil suggested.

 

“Why? I always bathed you as an elfling.”

 

“Yes you did.” Thranduil smiled. “We always bathed Legolas, even though he would scream with temper all the way through. It seemed unfair to ask the servants to do it, simply because his behaviour was so bad. I do not know how I did not kill the little brat. He used to reduce Merilnis to tears, and she is as hard as nails.”

 

“You would think that butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth when you look at him now,” I said.

 

“He would scratch her face, scream and hit her. He was awful.”

 

“Why was he like that?” I asked. “Normally there is a reason for such behaviour.”

 

“Saelir said it was a battle of wills. When he was old enough I slapped his arse and warned him that I would do it again if he carried on.”

 

“Did it stop him?”

 

“It calmed him down a bit, but it took years before his tantrums stopped.” Thranduil grinned as a wet Cireolas waved to him. Círdan sat down with him and dried him off. After he dressed, we set off for breakfast, leaving a note for the still sleeping Alassë.

 

Not surprisingly, my Adas were not there, neither were Elrond, Celebrían, Aikanáro or Saelir. Merilnis sat at the table waiting for us. Cireolas threw his usual objections at Círdan when he insisted that he eat a bowl of porridge. I had a full cooked breakfast, as did Círdan. If Cireolas was willing to eat a smaller version of a cooked breakfast he would not have to eat porridge, but he is not.

 

We still saw no sign of our adas. So after breakfast we dropped Cireolas off at the baby soft play and story group in the library, took a bottle of hangover cure from the healing block, and went up to their rooms. On the way, we were invited by the court artist to see the preliminary sketches. They were very good, and I told him to lose no haste in painting it.

 

Círdan, Thranduil, Merilnis and I stood outside my adas door and knocked loudly. It was hard to contain our giggles. There were stirrings from within the room so I knocked again. Several grunts could be heard from within. We took the noises as a cue to enter. All of us looked shocked, as though we had not expected what we now saw.

 

“Ada?” I said loudly, looking at Erestor.

 

Erestor looked at me through puffy slit eyes. He looked around as if confused and then with dawning remembrance. “Oh, shit!”

 

“Well at least we know you are all safe,” I said. “And the reason you did not come to breakfast.”

 

“Wha…” Legolas stirred. He lifted his head and then it crashed down again.

 

“I feel sick…” Elrond mumbled before closing his eyes again.

 

“Happily we have the cure,” Thranduil announced. He gave a wide grin and poured some green liquid into a glass from the hangover cure bottle.

 

He gave some to Legolas who tried to spit it out. Thranduil held his jaw closed and told him that he would spank him if he did not comply. Legolas’ eyes opened wide and he swallowed. “What am I doing holding Celebrían’s tit?” he said as if it had burnt his hand. “Where is Erestor?” He looked up and saw me. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I was concerned that you were not at breakfast.” Inside I smirked. “I hope you enjoyed your promiscuous orgy last night.”

 

“What promiscuous orgy?” Erestor said after drinking some of the cure. He sat up. “I do not remember an orgy. We were tired and went to sleep after having drunk too much.”

 

He looked triumphant, but not for long. “I have never seen so much dried seed,” Círdan said to me in a loud whisper.

 

I raised my eyebrows and smiled at Erestor. “It matters not. I am just relieved that you are all safe.”

 

“Saelir, you have your hand on my cock,” Elrond said, holding his head in his hands.

 

Saelir groaned and drank the cure that Thranduil put to his lips. “Oh, sorry, Elrond. You didn’t complain last night.”

 

“Ereolas and Círdan are watching us and so are Thranduil and Merilnis,” he hissed at the groggy healer.

 

“Shit!” Saelir said and shut his eyes. Elrond removed his hand from his groin and quickly covered it with his own.

 

“Legolas, put some clothes on,” Merilnis said in a loudly. “You could catch a chill, and there are other people in the room. I have told you before about exhibitionism.”

 

“Nana, stop treating me like an elfling,” Legolas whined.

 

“Well do not act like one,” Merilnis said, as if she was talking to a thirty year old.

 

“Nana, I am…” Legolas started irritably.

 

“Do not be rude to your Nana,” Thranduil said sharply. “Or else.”

 

Legolas gave in at that point and slumped back on the bed. Throughout Aikanáro and Celebrían did not say a word, but both looked quite sheepish and did their best to cover themselves.

 

“I look forward to seeing you all at lunch.” I walked to the door before turning back and calling in their direction, “You will all be pleased to hear that I feel wonderful. What a lovely morning it is outside. Perhaps you should get dressed and enjoy the sunshine.”

 

I will not repeat the expletives I heard, but the air became very blue indeed. We walked away giggling and awaited lunchtime.

 

I wondered if they would show up and, if they did, what they would say. Of course, I would graciously tell them that the matter was finished, adding how relieved I was that they were all right. I shall dismiss every attempt to talk about it, and they shall leave happy that Círdan and I are not offended in any way.

 

However, if Ada Legolas ever tries to lecture Círdan and me on taking another to our bed ever again we can use the incriminating paintings and sketches. While we do not intend taking another to our bed for a very long time, as I do not like to think of either of us with anyone else at the moment, it may happen one day and so it is always good to keep something in reserve.

 

 

**Part 93 – Explaining Myself**

 

  

It occurred to me that there might be a flaw in the plan to stop Ada Legolas judging me as promiscuous; also, my actions might offend those who I was not trying to upset. I instructed the court painter to make a new painting, and some sketches, obscuring the identity of all the participants of the orgy except for Ada Erestor and Ada Legolas and to lock the originals away. Ada Erestor will be on the painting, because Ada Legolas looks very like Thranduil and me; he will not be able to deny it if Ada Erestor is there. Hopefully, this will stop Ada Legolas threatening to spank me in public for my behaviour.

 

We all sat together at lunch. It was clear that neither Círdan, Thranduil, Merilnis nor I were flavour of the month. I was singled out for their most venomous glances, probably because I did most of the talking in the bedroom. Elladan, Elrohir, Mel and Fin sat talking merrily, totally ignoring the atmosphere at the table.

 

“I hope you are all feeling better,” Círdan enquired of them. Etiquette demanded that they answer him. They mumbled a non-committal reply. “I am so glad that we were able to help you all, otherwise who knows how ill you could have been. It is not as though we could have fetched a healer is it?”

 

Elrond and Saelir glared at my wonderfully witty husband.

 

“Well I am relieved that I found you in that state and alerted Ada,” Thranduil said as he examined a carrot on his fork. “I knew that he and Círdan would know what to do.”

 

“I think that we should forget this morning and carry on as before. As though none of it ever happened,” I said cheerfully.

 

Were they pleased with my indulgence? Not at all. They merely scowled, and as soon as lunch was over they departed.

 

“They were very rude,” Merilnis grinned.

 

Later in the afternoon, I was walking down a corridor to the library when I saw Celebrían. She appeared extremely tired and out of sorts. “Hello,” I greeted her cheerfully. I did not expect the ringing slap that hit my face.

 

“How dare you,” she cried. “You have humiliated me.”

 

“How?” I asked imperiously, looking every inch the king I once was.

 

“There is a rumour that you let the court painter sketch us while we were asleep,” she hissed. “It had better not be true.”

 

“The court painter was ordered by Thranduil, so I could use it as an object lesson for Legolas. Only his and Ada Erestor’s faces are distinct. None of the others are,” I replied. “Come with me and you can view them.” I knew she would not dare argue with Thranduil’s decision; Merilnis would prove a formidable foe.

 

“I don’t think I want to go anywhere with you,” Celebrían said haughtily.

 

“Nevertheless, you will.” I held onto her arm with a firm grip and led her along the corridor.

 

We reached the artist’s door and I knocked with my free hand.

 

“Let go of me,” Celebrían ordered, for about the fiftieth time. “You cannot make me go in there. You wait until Elrond hears about this.”

 

We went into the studio and the artist showed her the copy painting and sketches, the one where only my adas faces were visible. She breathed a sigh of relief. “Notice that it is hard to tell the sex or appearance of the ones who are sharing Adas’ bed.”

 

“This is the only painting?” she asked.

 

“Of course.” I explained about Ada Legolas threatening to spank me for occasionally sharing my bed, and she seemed mollified. “It was to stop him being so judgemental,” I told her. “Ada Erestor is in it, so that Ada Legolas does not try to say the painting is not of him.”

 

“You should not have walked in on us sleeping,” Celebrían said as we walked out the door.

 

“Why not?” I acted surprised. “It served a purpose. I refuse to be spanked in public by my Ada, when he has done the same thing himself, and now I have proof. Besides, you were all very hung over, to the point of harm, and you say that I should not care about my friends and relatives?”

 

“What about our privacy?” Celebrían demanded.

 

“Dear Lady, I really do not want to pursue this any further,” I told her. “I have already said that we should forget that it ever happened.”

 

“But…” she started.

 

“I am the ruler here and what I say goes,” I told her firmly. “Now, we will not pursue this matter any further because Círdan and I have agreed that it never happened. You should be happy with that.”

 

“What if the court painter says anything?” she asked.

 

“Then I will have his tongue slit in two,” I replied. “He is very loyal and so I doubt that it will happen.”

 

“I am still very angry with you,” she said. “I used to think you were nice.”

 

I took hold of both her arms. “How dare you throw this back on me just because you are ashamed of your behaviour.”  I said with a hint of anger. “Perhaps if you are to indulge in an orgy you might think to lock the door first. What if Cireolas had decided to visit his Grand Adas?” Her face dropped. “And before you try to counter me with more argument, let me tell you that I have every right to see my adas and Thranduil has every right to visit his ion. He had no special knowledge of what was going on beforehand, and neither did I. Therefore we are not responsible if we see you in a state of undress; that responsibility lies with you.”

 

I did not see Elrond standing behind me. “What is going on?” he thundered. “Unhand my wife.”

 

I turned to face him. “Do you have any complaints about us relieving you of your hangover? Your wife seems to think that I should not have done.”

 

“Ereolas, we were all drunk and went back to your Adas’ room. We all slept together, which we can do as we are consenting adults. It is not up to you to judge us,” Elrond said steadily, his voice barely hiding his anger.

 

“You have come in at the tail end of a conversation and assumed wrongly,” I replied. “I am not interested at all if you hold an orgy, but when I am told that I have invaded your privacy, when the door is not locked and there is every likelihood of several people entering in the morning, I would say that it was not a logical accusation. Wouldn’t you?”

 

“Why has the court painter made sketches of us?” Elrond demanded. “I refuse to let you blackmail us.”

 

“Come with me,” I said, and half-dragged him up the corridor to the artist’s studio. Once inside, I showed him the paintings and sketches and explained about Ada Legolas judging me.

 

“As much as I do not like it, I can see the logic behind it,” Elrond admitted. “You are indeed Erestor’s ion; except that he would have made sure everyone’s faces and bodies were painted on the canvas.”

 

“Erestor would not do anything like that.” Celebrían sounded rather shocked at the suggestion.

 

“Yes he would,” Elrond replied. “You do not know him very well.”

 

“But he is a wonderful ada and elflings love him,” Celebrían argued.

 

“Fëanor a wonderful ada.” I smiled at her ingenuousness. “His elflings adored him.”

 

I turned to Elrond. “I apologise if this has upset either of you, and I hope that we can continue our friendship as it was before. There is too much to lose just because of a misunderstanding.” I looked at Celebrían, expecting an answer.

 

“All right,” she mumbled. “I am sorry I slapped you.”

 

“Dear Lady, it never happened,” I replied graciously.

 

“It would take a lot more than this to hurt our friendship,” Elrond said. He threw his arms around my neck and hugged me. “Do not worry, you have said why you did it, and you are right, we should have locked the door. I admit that I am still not happy about it and would expect it to never happen again.”

 

I smiled. “I care not what you do as long as the door is locked. As for the painting, I have what I need. The next time you are all laying drunk and semi-conscious I will not intervene at all. You can all stew for the rest of the day and get your own hangover cure.”

 

“I am glad that you did give us the hangover cure,” Elrond said. “I still feel a bit washed out, and I expect Celebrían is glad that you did too. Aren’t you my darling?”

 

Celebrían muttered something non-committal and I left it at that. We went off to afternoon tea and sat with Círdan, Erestor and Legolas.

 

Legolas glared at me and Erestor surreptitiously passed me a note.

 

I opened it on my lap.

 

_Dear Ereolas,_

_I know what you are up to and you will explain yourself._

_I am extremely angry with you and I would like to see how you are going to get out of this one._

_In addition, I strongly suspect that you have two sets of paintings. I have seen the ones shown to me by the artist, and while I do not have any jurisdiction in this realm, if either set ever see the light of day I will be as fearsome as a Valar in battle and you will be my focus._

_Irregardless of whether you are the ruler of this realm or not, I am your Ada and will not be treated in this way. Ada Legolas is distraught and feels that his favourite ion has turned against him. I will not let him be upset._

_I will pray to the Valar and ask that they cure your devious nature._

_Love Ada Erestor xxxx_

I stood up. “Ada’s. Come with me.” I said and walked from the room. They followed me out of the tea hall and I could feel their eyes boring into my back.

 

This was not going to be easy.

 

 


	34. Part 94 – Assassination and Kidnapping – How Convenient! Part 95 – Cirdan the Tease. Part 96 – Feigning ignorance. Part 97 – Facing my Phobia.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The influence of the idle rich lingers. Elrond continues the story of Mel rescuing the babies. Círdan feeds Ereolas. Erestor and Legolas have not forgotten about the paintings and the elflings visit Ereolas. Ereolas has a phobia and he is encouraged to overcome it with unsuccessful results.

 

 

 

**Part 94 – Assassination and Kidnapping – How Convenient**

 

I was so intent on what I would say to my adas, by way of an excuse for having the court artist paint them while they were drunk and in a complete state of undress, that I nearly did not survive the latest assassination attempt.

 

I am so bored with other beings trying to kill me. If it is not an elf, it is a man. Ho Hum! I expect I will survive many more. Anyway, back to the story.

 

I walked towards the door, trying to think about what to say, when I felt the sharp shock of an arrow piercing my neck and the momentarily agonising pain as it shot through my spinal cord. It was very surreal. I heard my adas drawing their swords and there was a lot of shouting. At the same time I realised with exceptional clarity that I could not feel my body and I was falling to the floor. For a split second, I had the realisation I was dying. Everything seemed to go slowly, and I remember thinking that I could not breathe and not feeling too worried about it. Faces looked into mine and Elrond was lifting my chin with his fingers. I heard Alassë screaming in the distance and knew that what had happened to me was connected somehow. My last thought before I passed out was of my elflings being in danger, wondering why it should be so before my eyes closed.

 

I awoke late in the next day, minus the arrow and with nearly all the feeling back in my extremities. Elrond had his hand on the back of my neck and seemed to be concentrating very hard. “What are you doing?” I asked.

 

Jumpy Elrond told me off for surprising him and explained, with a certain amount of irritability, that he was delivering healing energy into my neck, and had been hard at it since the day before. “Not that you deserve it,” he added. “Celebrían is still very upset and so am I. No wonder people keep trying to kill you.”

 

“Oh!” I said and tried not to smile.

 

“Stay still,” he ordered. “There has been much going on since yesterday,” Elrond said, still concentrating on my neck and moving his fingers very slightly. “You know the idle rich? Well it seems that they had paid the local village ruler to carry out a revenge attack if anything untoward happened to any of them. This was before they were turned into monkeys.”

 

“Of course,” I smiled.

 

“I am tired.” Elrond stopped touching my neck. He reached down below my line of vision and brought up two sandbags wrapped in pillowcases, which he placed on either side of my head. Then he sat beside me. “We can do more of that later.”

 

“Can I sit up?” I went to roll on my side.

 

“Not yet,” Elrond replied hurriedly, pushing me back. “Lay back and let me finish what I was telling you.” He walked over to the kettle and poured a drink for himself and one for me. “You were shot by a warrior from Imladris, who was originally from here. You sent him on a warrior exchange last year, I believe. His adar was Lord Véneanár, who set himself up as the leader of the group who were determined to kill you because of your malign influence on Círdan.”  

 

“So what happened to the him?”

 

“Glorfindel and Círdan gave chase, shouting that the elf was theirs to kill.” Elrond looked a nauseated. “When they caught him, your husband went into a frenzy and hacked him to pieces, although in his favour he was convinced that you were dead.”

 

“How could he not tell?”

 

“You lay unmoving with your eyes open, covered in blood and not breathing. Anyone could have made that mistake. Really you are too much sometimes.” Elrond took a sip of his tea. He put a straw in another cup of tea and told me to drink through it.

 

“If I was not breathing, how am I alive now?”

 

“We took it in turns to breathe for you,” Elrond tittered, knowing that what he was about to say would revolt me. “First of all I did, then Legolas and then Erestor.”

 

“Ewwww! They are my adas.” I was mortified and wished I had not asked.

 

“I expect the last thought on their minds when they were closing their lips over yours was to slip you the tongue.” Elrond was enjoying every minute of my predicament. No doubt he was still as sore about the painting as my adas were.

 

“I bet you were tempted.” I laughed, determined to ignore his sarcasm.

 

Elrond raised his famous eyebrow, as opposed to the one that enjoyed a lesser fame, and continued. “Alassë screamed as you were being skewered with the arrow. A group of men, whom she recognised as living in the local human village, held a knife to her throat and removed Cireolas and the twins.”

 

“WHAT?” I tried to get up. Agonising pain shot down my spine and up from my neck into my head.

 

“Lay down before you damage something,” Elrond snapped at me. “I have used a lot of healing energy fusing your spinal cord back together and do not want to have to do it again.” He placed his hand over my forehead, rather forcefully, to keep me lying down. “Your elflings were rescued by Mel, and they are none the worse for the experience. According to Erestor, who is downstairs in the dungeons interrogating the ring leaders, they were meant to be sold off. Their aim was to destroy Círdan's family, to punish him for abandoning the old way of life that favoured the idle rich.”

 

I sighed with relief. “Thank you.” Horrible scenarios played in my mind regarding the fates of my elflings. “You are sure they are all right?”

 

Elrond shook his head and mumbled something about me not being very bright before continuing. He told me about the rescue as though he were telling a tale; perhaps he thought that it would be like a story at bedtime and send me off to sleep again.

 

“ _Mel and his warriors chased the men to the nearest village and surrounded it, but they were ready for him. He dismounted and regarded them; they were pointing their spears in his direction. The other warriors spread out and so it looked to the men that Mel was alone. Walking towards them, he waved his hand and they all fell flat on the floor. As they hastily tried to stand, he told them, “I am Melpomaen Erestorion, an elven warrior; you are merely men. Do not presume to come up against me.” He stood smiling as they half-heartedly brought their spears up to position again. Time to reinforce the lesson, Mel thought. “I am the second greatest warrior in Middle-earth; pray that you do not meet the greatest.”_

 __  
  
“We are all warriors here,” their leader replied, his jaw set in defiance. “You travel alone and expect us to be in awe of you? A fine prize you will make for the ruler of this village.”

 __  
  
“Obviously you are slow witted and completely unable to learn.” Mel gave a superior smile. “Was falling over not enough for you?”

 __  
  
“A party trick, that is all.” The leader smirked, sure in the knowledge that his group of twenty men could beat one lone elf. They would not be taken by surprise a second time.

 __  
  
Mel looked at him and waved his hand. “Perhaps this is a party trick also.”

 __  
  
The leader of the warriors changed shape into a small, chattering, ass-scratching monkey, complete with tiny sword and armour. Mel looked at the other warriors. “The ruler of this village will meet here with me or else we will destroy this village.”

 __  
  
“We?” One of the warriors asked uncertainly.

 __  
  
“Of course,” Mel replied. He motioned over to the outskirts, and there in-between every house stood a horse complete with elven rider holding a firebrand. “It would do you well to bring him here. I am quite serious about burning your village to the ground.” He waited for their reaction.”

“And then what happened?” I asked as Elrond took a sip of his tea.

Elrond continued:

_“The warriors told Mel that the ruler of the village was in the furthest house. “Go and get him,” Mel ordered. “Any hesitation and you will feel my wrath.”_

_Two of the warriors went off to the ruler’s house. It was sometime before they came back out, and Mel was growing impatient. In the end, he motioned to one of his elven warriors, who set light to the thatch on the nearest cottage. “How many houses am I going to have to burn before you take this seriously?” he asked. To his gratification, the ruler ran out of his house to meet him._

_“What is the meaning of this?” The ruler demanded; his red pockmarked nose flaring at the nostrils and his eyes nearly popping out in rage._

_“Meet the leader of your warriors,” Mel said calmly and pointed to the monkey, who was perched on a tree branch and throwing apples at the window of the nearest cottage. “You will hand over the elflings your warriors stole from Círdan and Ereolas, or else I will burn your village down, and hang, draw and quarter you.”_

_“They are not here,” the ruler smirked arrogantly. “In fact we have not seen them, and I do not know what you are talking about.” He laughed loudly and the other warriors joined in; they did not want to lose face in front of him.”Go on. Go back home to Mithlond. Stupid elf.”_

_With one swift slash of his sword, Mel cut away the ruler's robe and belt, and with another he sliced open his belly, so that his innards fell out onto the grass. “Does anyone else think that it is wise to lie to me?” he asked in a seemingly pleasant manner as the ruler fell to the floor, moaning in agony._

_“The babies are in the cottage over there,” one of the warriors said quickly. The others continued to stare in shock._

_Mel waved his hand and the men found that they were unable to move. They were rooted to the spot and their arms were stuck to their sides. “Horrible tortures for you lot if any of you are lying,” Mel called out with a cheerful grin. ”Erestor is looking forward to exercising the more extreme methods of his interrogation techniques.”_

_Inside the cottage was a young, baby-faced warrior with Cireolas on his lap demanding trifle because he was a prince. The babies were fast asleep in a crib by the fire. “I do not know what trifle is,” the human warrior told Cireolas, who then looked at him disparagingly and called him a peasant. ”Is it one of those fancy desserts they have up at the castle?”_

_“Give me trifle. I am prince. You give me trifle now.” Cireolas shouted at the hapless warrior, before looking up. “Unca Mel,” he shouted joyfully. “He not give me trifle.”_

_The warrior looked around, and Mel caught his throat with his fingers. “You kidnap an elfling and cannot even be bothered to feed him properly?”_

_The warrior was confused, “But, I was told to look after the babies as I am too young to go on missions. I did not kidnap anyone; I am only a trainee.”_

_“How old are you?” Mel asked._

_“Sixteen. It was my birthday last week.”_

_“Do you want to see another birthday?” Mel asked raising one eyebrow._

_“I would like to, yes,” the warrior replied uncertainly._

_“Well then, these babies are elflings and we tend to take kidnap and concealment very seriously. Your ruler lays dying because he could not remember this.” Mel picked Cireolas up. “If there is any harm to these elflings I will come back and kill you, which will mean that you will never see seventeen. Do you understand?”_

_“I would never harm a baby, Sir,” The young warrior looked as if he was about to burst into tears. “I have looked after my younger brothers and sisters since they were born.”_

_“Well that is good then, isn’t it?” Mel said. “It seems as if there is hope for you yet.”_

_The young warrior let out an audible sigh and Mel demanded to know why. “I thought you were going to kill me then.”_

_“I do not kill unnecessarily, no elf does. However, I have no choice in taking you all to Círdan's court and letting him decide judgement.” Mel smiled. “He is rather cranky at the moment because his husband has been shot through the neck by an arrow. I am not sure if he is alive or not, and to add to his bad temper his elflings have been kidnapped.”_

Isn’t my brother great?

 

 

**Ereolas: Oropher Unbound! - Part 95 – Cirdan the Tease**

 

Elrond continued with the story:

 

_The young warrior looked extremely worried, especially when Cireolas added that he thought Círdan might chop his head off. “Be quiet, young one,” Mel said._

_“He got no trifle,” Cireolas answered as if especially grieved._

_“Trifle isn’t everything,” Mel replied._

_“Yes it is,” Cireolas' bottom lip hung out._

_“Come with me,” Mel said to the young warrior who still looked nervous. “Take Cireolas and I will pick up the babies.”_

_They walked out to the front of the village. Mel handed the babies to Merilnis and Thranduil, who had arrived with reinforcements._

_“Well done, melethen,” Glorfindel said as he dismounted his horse. “Now how are we going to get these warriors back to the castle?”_

_“We tie them together and then make them lighter than air,” Mel grinned._

_“Oh, how simple, why do I never think to do that when taking prisoners?”_

_The warriors were still immobile as they were tied together. At the end of a long rope they rose gracefully up in the air. Mel fixed the other end to his horse. “Look, I have made a warrior kite,” he laughed._

_“Why is he not part of the kite,” Glorfindel asked, pointing to the young human warrior who blanched in fear._

_“He has not played a part in the kidnapping because he is too young.” Mel replied. “He looked after the elflings very well and has not hurt them; therefore, he deserves especial consideration.”_

_“Well, who knows,” Glorfindel smirked at the young warrior. “Círdan may even let you live.”_

_The procession rode back to Mithlond and there was much joy at the elflings being returned.”_

Elrond stopped his narrative and reached for his tea. Then he gave some to me.

 

“I checked your elflings and they are fine. Círdan is in the dungeons at the moment watching Erestor extract confessions.” Elrond sighed. “Wish I could watch too.”

 

“Where are Ada Legolas, Merilnis and Thranduil?”

 

They are in the gardens playing with the elflings. Alassë has been given the week off with shock,” Elrond replied.

 

“How long until I am able to get up?” I asked. “I feel fine.”

 

“When I say so,” Elrond smiled; he was enjoying my predicament too much. “Until then you must lay flat. I will be back after dinner and then I will start on your neck again.”

 

“Well so long as I avoid going into the room I do not like to mention,” I replied, smiling because I knew it was unlikely.

 

“You went there yesterday. Anyway, you really should try to get over your fear of it.” Elrond smirked. “Keep trying to move and you will be back in there, and you will be awake.”

 

I am terrified of that room, as I have mentioned before. It is almost a phobia. I associate it with terrible pain. When Cireolas was delivered, the incompetent healers did not notice that I was awake halfway through. Because I could not move, they carried on without giving me a top up of medication to make me fall back to sleep. Both Elrond and Saelir know this, so when the twins were born, they were keen to reassure me that there would be no repeat of what happened; however, I am still frightened of being in there.

 

“I will stay completely still,” I assured Elrond and meant every word. My eyes slid to the left as I watched him walk away but, in reality, there was little I could see except the ceiling.  Ah, well! It would not be forever.

 

Shortly afterwards, Círdan came into the room. “Melethen,” he said softly as he loomed over me and smiled. “I have missed you.”

 

“I have missed you too.” I smiled and brought my hand up to stroke his cheek.

 

“That is wonderful. You could not have done that yesterday.”

 

“Elrond’s healing energy,” I replied, feeling rather proud of being able to move my hand. “He will be doing some more after dinner.” A big grin spread over my face. “What are you doing?”

 

I could feel the sheets being drawn back and my gown being lifted. The coolness on my willy told me it was exposed. I could not move my head to see it; however, the big grin on my face was enough for Círdan. I sighed as a sudden wet warmth enveloped me.

 

“Elrond has done a good job,” Círdan let my willy out of his mouth and gave a wicked grin. “It seems to be in perfect working order.”

 

“Suck it some more to make sure,” I said in my best slutty voice.

 

Círdan moved up the bed and kissed my mouth. “You taste as good as I remember,” he teased. He pulled my bed gown up and kissed across my chest. “This nipple tastes slightly more delicious than this one,” he said as I giggled. “What do we have here? Oh yes a little black inkwell for me to dip my tongue in.” He swirled his tongue inside the well of my belly button before proceeding down further to my willy. “I think I will stop now.”

 

“Círdan!” I said loudly.

 

“All right then.” He kissed along the length and then took me into his mouth. My balls were cradled gently, rolling in his palm as I sighed with pleasure. Very soon afterwards, I came into his mouth and he swallowed. All the time, I was trying not to move my head and keep as still as possible.  Círdan kissed my mouth again and I tasted my seed.

 

My gown was pulled back down and the sheets placed back over me. “I bought some food. Shall I feed you?”

 

“I can do it myself.”

 

“Not according to Elrond,” Círdan replied and a fork hovered over my mouth. “Here comes the horsey.”

 

I opened my mouth and swallowed the shepherd's pie. Then Círdan insisted I open my mouth to show him that I had swallowed it and not hidden it under my tongue. I found this very amusing and so did he.

 

“Here comes a great big troll,” Círdan said. “Open your mouth!”

 

“Not eating a troll.” I pursed my lips.

 

“Here comes Ada Erestor giving you mouth to mouth resuscitation,” Círdan held the shepherd's pie over my lips.

 

I held my hand over my mouth and screeched with laughter. “That is so gross.” Círdan slipped the shepherd’s pie into my mouth as I giggled.

 

“Be a good boy.”

 

We played around with my food until it was gone. I kept laughing and so did Círdan.

 

“You will like this. Raspberries and syllabub.”

 

“Mmm…tastes better than you!” I teased.

 

“Nothing tastes better than me, meleth. You know that.” Círdan kissed my lips.

 

“Give me more,” I demanded. “I am prince! Give me all you got.” We cackled with laughter because my impersonation of Cireolas was spot on.

 

In the end, the dessert was finished. Círdan put a straw in my mouth and I drank some sweet, refreshing sparkling wine. I felt like an elf again. We talked for a while about our elflings and Mel’s rescue of them. I was very happy that we could still have our quiet time together before I went to sleep.

 

“Elrond told me to give you this before leaving.” Círdan tipped a small amount of fruit flavoured syrup into my mouth.

 

Before long, I felt drowsy and I shut my eyes. I was vaguely aware of Círdan and Elrond talking and mentioning my name. However, I did not care; my elflings were no worse for the experience, I was getting better, and Mel’s show of force ensured that no more trouble would be forthcoming from the human villages.

 

Warm fingers touched the back of my neck and pressed on firmly. The heat radiated through my neck and I could feel my muscles, nerves and tendons rearranging and becoming stronger, but not for long. Sleep called for me, engulfing me in blackness, settling like a warm, dark pall over my being. It was too seductive to fight and so I gave in willingly.

 

I am hoping that in the morning I can go back to our rooms. These assassination attempts are so tediously boring, especially if I have to spend time in the healing rooms. However, there is one good outcome; I do not have to explain to my adas about having them painted after the orgy. At least, I hope not!

 

 

 

**Part 96 – Feigning ignorance.**

 

 

I woke up in the healing rooms with my adas looking at me.

 

“Are you feeling well?” Ada Erestor asked.

 

“Yes, thank you,” I replied, givingthem a big beaming smile and feeling much gratified by their concern.

 

“Excellent,” Ada Legolas replied, a rather dangerously looking smile on his face. “Now perhaps we can talk about the painting.”

 

Damn! I thought the assassination attempt would have knocked that completely from their minds. I did my best blank look, while my mind worked furiously at what I should say.

 

“What painting?” I asked, looking at them as though I was incredibly interested. All the while, some little part of my mind taunted me that my adas had given me the kiss of life.

 

“You know what painting,” Ada Erestor said irritably. It doesn’t take much for him to lose his temper.

 

“Don’t try and get out of it,” Ada Legolas barked, a determined look on his face.

 

“As I said before, what painting?” That should throw them. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

 

“What is going on?” Elrond asked loudly as he walked through the door, with his chum, Saelir, in tow.

 

“I have no idea,” I said and managed to look slightly bewildered.

 

“Apparently, Ereolas has lost his memory,” Erestor said, rather sarcastically in my opinion.

 

“Which is rather convenient, wouldn’t you say?” Ada Legolas added, glaring at me.

 

I sighed heavily in feigned annoyance and bewildered exasperation

 

“It is perfectly possible that Ereolas has lost his memory of some of the events surrounding the recent attempt on his life,” Saelir told them. “In fact, it is to be expected.”

 

Erestor’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure?”

 

“Of course I am,” Saelir barked. “I am a healer.”

 

“So?” Erestor replied, in a belligerent tone.

 

“We cannot choose what events to remember and which ones to forget when a traumatic event happens,” Elrond said smoothly, as if Erestor was just a tad stupid. “Now you will have to accept that Ereolas knows nothing about the painting, no matter how inconvenient it is for you.”

 

“Well I think it is extremely fortuitous that he cannot remember anything, and I do not believe it at all,” Ada Legolas said, his voice filled with righteous anger.

 

I took a leaf out of Mel’s book: when all is lost try melodrama.

 

“I cannot take this,” I said as if terribly upset. “I have no idea what you are both talking about, and yet you do not believe me. I never thought of either of you as being so heartless that you would interrogate someone who has narrowly escaped death and is still on his sickbed.”

 

“Drama queen,” Ada Erestor muttered.

 

“We are not interrogating you,” Ada Legolas seemed shocked. “We merely want to talk to you about the painting you had made of us.”

 

“What painting?” I asked loudly.

 

“Don’t talk to your ada like that,” Erestor snapped at me.

 

“What is going on here?” Círdan boomed as he walked through the door.  “Why is my husband so upset, and why can I hear raised voices? This should be a place of calm.”

 

All three of us started talking at once. Elrond and Saelir stood watching, with big grins on their faces. “Quiet,” Círdan roared. “I am the Lord here, and what I say goes. I will not have Ereolas upset. All this stops now.”

 

“We only came to talk about the painting,” Ada Legolas told him.

 

“Which we have every right to do,” Erestor added. His whole body was that of one determined elf, but I trusted Círdan to deal with him.

 

“Simply put, if Legolas had not been so virulent in judging my husband, because we occasionally take another to our bed, then the painting would not have been necessary. I believe that he also wrote to Ereolas, saying he would spank him in public for his promiscuity. That will not happen. It was ridiculous of him to threaten such a thing. Now, we will have no more unpleasantness. It is obvious Ereolas has no idea what any of us are talking about, and that he is still traumatised by the recent attempt on his life. I would have thought that, as his parents, you would have found it in your hearts to be a bit more caring.”

 

This stung both my adas. “How dare you even doubt our love for our ion,” Erestor roared. I giggled inside, being careful not to let him see.

 

“We helped save his life,” Ada Legolas bellowed. “How can you say such a thing?”

 

“It is particularly thoughtless to question him about paintings, when he is so disturbed by recent events. He has just survived an attempt on his life, for Valar’s sake,” Círdan said in a quieter tone, one to be wary of because it is only one step away from murderous anger. “If you cannot find it in your hearts to be agreeable, then get out. I will not have him traumatised further.”

 

“He doesn’t look traumatised to me.” Erestor gave me a scathing look. “And I am an expert in judging trauma, as you all know.”

 

“He obviously is traumatised if he can remember nothing of the events,” Elrond said smoothly and walked over to my side. “I must insist that Ereolas is not upset further.”

 

“It is all right for you,” Ada Legolas sulked. “Your face and body was unrecognisable in the painting.”

 

“But not in the original one the court artist painted,” Ada Erestor smirked. “Your face and body is only unrecognisable in the copy.”

 

“What?” Elrond looked accusingly at me. I shrugged my shoulders and gave my best uncomprehending look.

 

“There is only one painting,” Círdan said, with a finality that no one could argue with. “After all, we are not all as devious as you, Erestor.”

 

“There is nothing wrong in being devious.”

 

“There is, if it upsets those whom you are supposed to love,” Círdan replied.

 

“Are you sure that you have no idea of what we are talking about?” Ada Legolas asked me.

 

“I have no idea of anything about a painting,” I said, sounding righteously miffed. “Why can’t you believe me? I bet if I was Mel you would believe me.”

 

“Mel is not as scheming as you,” Erestor barked.

 

Ada Legolas put his arms around my head and kissed my cheek. “I am so sorry that I did not believe you and that we upset you. Ada Erestor is sorry too. Aren’t you?”

 

“No, not at all,” Erestor replied.

 

“Erestor,” Legolas said, raising an interrogatory eyebrow.

 

“I apologise, if you really do not know what I am talking about, that is,” Ada Erestor said ungraciously.

 

“Erestor!” Ada Legolas barked.

 

Ada sighed the sigh of an elf who has been thwarted, yet knows he is right. “Oh, all right. I apologise.” He bent down and kissed my cheek, whispering that if the paintings ever saw the light of day he would thrash me to within an inch of my life. I gave him my, ‘I have no idea of what you are talking about’ look.

 

Círdan went back outside the door and pulled the baby pram into the room. He had left it outside because of all the shouting.

 

“You can gradually sit up now,” Elrond said as he felt the back of my neck. “Any pain, even if slight, and you must lie back down.” He then told Círdan to stay with me and fetch him immediately if there were any twinges. He and Saelir went off to their den, or wherever those two go when they are together, and as they left they promised to send in tea and breakfast. I wonder if they still spend their time discussing new cures and treatments. I would have thought that they would have exhausted that line of conversation long ago. What it is to be a scurrilous minded ex-king!

 

I sat up a little bit, and it was enough to look forward and see Geli, who was placed into my arms. She was awake and smiling at me. “I missed you.” She gave me a big baby smile and reached up with her tiny arms.

 

“I missed you too, sweet one,” I said fondly and kissed her. How I love her, she is so adorable.

 

“Can I have milk?” I plugged her on to my nipple and held her tiny little head, covered with soft, black, fluffy hair, in my hand. According to Círdan, when I was unconscious my milk was suctioned from me with a glass tube connected to a pair of bellows, which pulled the milk out into a cup when expanded. I do not remember any of it, and do not really want to. It all sounds rather messy. Still, I am glad our little ones did not go without their milk. Considering whom they used to be in their former lives, it is probably wise not to upset them too much.

 

“Ada,” a sleepy little voice called from the pram. “I am awake now.”

 

Círdan lifted Ereodan up and gave him to me. He gave me a lovely smile and clapped his hands together, “Look at what I can do.” He snuggled his head around to my other nipple and sucked happily.

 

Ada Legolas sat watching and smiling. Ada Erestor tickled Ereodan’s cheek to try and get him to open his eyes. They are still too tiny to be presented to the Valar, and it will be some weeks before they are as big as full term babies, but they are healthy and what more can one ask than that.

 

Cireolas toddled into the room with Mel and Glorfindel. He had the remains of trifle on his lips and smeared across his cheek. “I eat trifle,” he announced as he sat on Círdan's knee. “I eat trifle at breakfast. Unca Mel did too.” He looked up at Glorfindel. “You had sausages.”

 

“I had eggs, beans, tomatoes and bacon too, little one,” Glorfindel replied as he ruffled Cireolas’ hair.

 

“I not have porridge again,” Cireolas said to me. I laughed. “You get out bed, Ada,” he continued. “You lazy. It sunny in garden.”

 

“Your Ada has not been very well,” Ada Erestor said as he pulled Cireolas onto his lap. “Elrond will not allow him to get out of bed yet.”

 

“But Ada prince.” Cireolas looked surprised. “No one tell Ada what to do,”

 

“You will learn,” Ada Erestor said as he tickled Cireolas’ ribs until he squeaked with laughter.

 

Ada Erestor stood up with my little sprat and asked him if he wanted to go to the market to buy some toys. Of course Cireolas wanted to go to the market. He absolutely loves the place. Aglarien and Angaráto take him once a week, and he never seems to be able to spend his one gold piece pocket money unless Alassë is there. Aglarien is far too indulgent with him, but then again I would rather he was around people who love him, as they will make sure he is safe.

 

“We can take Geli and Ereodan when you are finished,” Ada Erestor said to Círdan and me. “I am worn out with interrogating the men from the village. I need a break.”

 

Hurrah! I get to spend a day alone with Círdan. “Of course you can,” I said happily. The twins were fast asleep. The fresh air would do them good and wake them up a bit.

 

“I will send a warrior guard to accompany you,” Círdan said. “We cannot be too careful in light of recent events.”

 

Legolas took the twins from me and put them back in the pram. There was a suspiciously whiffy smell coming from them. I wondered which of my parents would change their nappies or whether they would do one each.

 

My parents departed and Círdan told the warriors guarding my room that one of them was to arrange an accompaniment for my elflings.  Mel and Glorfindel left with Erestor and Legolas, because they rather fancied going to the market as well, and we were left alone. I wished that I could go to the market too as it was so sunny outside. Cireolas waved as they departed and the room was silent once again.

 

My breakfast arrived and after I ate it we share a pot of tea. Círdan left the tray on the floor outside the room.

 

My wonderful husband climbed onto the bed beside me and put his arm around my shoulders.

 

“I have missed you, melethen,” he whispered in my ear as I smiled. “I am glad that you had the foresight to plead ignorance about the paintings.”

 

“What paintings?” I asked cheekily.

 

“You know very well.” Círdan flicked my nose. “This will grow incredibly long if you keep denying it.”

 

I ignored his taunt and giggled. “I have missed you too.” I could turn my head now and it felt so good, so I kissed him. All was quiet and the sun streamed through the high set windows. It felt good to be alive and to be so loved.

 

Maybe it takes nearly dying occasionally to feel these things.

 

 

 

**Part 97 – Facing my Phobia.**

 

 

During the afternoon, I tried getting out of bed. Whilst a bit unsteady, Saelir cleared me to go back to my rooms. I was incredibly happy, but he soon put paid to that.

 

“I think that before you go we should deal with your phobia of the treatment room.” He wore a suspiciously benign smile. He said it just as we were passing the room leading to the one I was frightened of because they do horrible things to elves in there.

 

“What?” I squeaked uncertainly, feeling slightly sick.

 

“You need to deal with your phobia, in case you need to go in there again,” Saelir said to me. “It may not be you who needs treatment, but one of your elflings. What would happen if Cireolas broke his leg and we needed you to sit with him?”

 

The ground started to sway. “Círdan could do it,” I heard myself saying as if from a distance.

 

“What if I were not there?” I thought I heard my husband say.

 

Black spots appeared before my eyes and I felt nauseated. A cold sweat covered my body; the drips ran down my spine. My legs buckled underneath me.

 

I woke up on the floor, my head between my knees and Saelir offering me a glass of lemon squash. “Drink this,” he ordered.

 

It was very sugary. Saelir told me that I couldn’t leave any of it. Elrond stood behind me. I did not notice him at first until I heard him laughing. Círdan kept asking me if I was all right, to the point of annoyance, and Saelir told me that it was imperative that I try harder to overcome my fear. Unsympathetic bastard; I do not know what Aikanáro sees in him.

 

“You have drunk so much sugar that you cannot faint anymore,” Elrond wittered. “Come on, get up.”

 

Círdan helped me to my feet, while Elrond told me that I should go into the room. It was then that I noticed we were not in the corridor anymore, but in the room that led to the treatment room. I was terrified of what lay beyond the door.

 

“I shall be with you,” Círdan tried to reassure me. “Come on; be a brave elf.”

 

“You just don’t understand,” I said to him. “I can only go in there if I am drugged up to the eyeballs and unaware of anything going on.”

 

Círdan put his arm around me and tried to lead me to the doorway. I panicked. Shouting at all of them, I tried my best to escape their clutches as I sought the safety of the corridor. My heart pounded, beating against my ribs, and my mouth and throat felt dry. I had to get out, as quickly and as far away as possible. Then I vomited all the lemon squash over myself and Elrond. Somehow, Círdan and Saelir managed to jump back and avoid being covered.

 

Was that the end of it? No, not at all.

 

“Nothing is going to happen to you in there,” the devious Saelir assured me. “We just want you to stand in there and see that there is nothing to be scared of.”

 

“He might want to dry off first,” Elrond said, pulling the wet part of his robe away from his skin. “I know I do.”

 

“Perhaps we should leave it for now,” Círdan suggested. I felt immense relief. “Later on today, we can come back and you can go into the room.”

 

“What?” I said in a strangled voice.

 

“Saelir is right; your phobia has many implications. Supposing you do not fight properly because you are frightened that you will be hurt and end up here? You could be killed, and so could those you are defending. How would you feel if your phobia endangered our elflings just because you were frightened of being hurt and ending up in that room?”

 

“I am not frightened of being hurt,” I shouted. “I am just scared of being in that room. Why are you too stupid to understand that?”

 

Círdan sighed. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.” Elrond had already left the room to shower. Saelir shrugged and told Círdan to bring me back when I was ready.

 

We went up the back stairs to our rooms and I had a bath on my own. Círdan was angry with me and sulking. So after the bath I took a book on first age circlet design, normally a most riveting read, and sat by the window, leaving him to it. I felt full of anger and wondered how my husband could be so thoughtless and cruel. He just did not understand how I felt.

 

My book was not as enthralling as it had been the first time I read it, and so I thought that I would go to the library. On the way out, Círdan asked where I was going. I ignored him. He came bounding out and took hold of my arms.

 

“I asked, where you are going?” he thundered.

 

“What do you care?” I yelled back. “Leave me alone.”

 

“I happen to care very much that you are wandering the castle without any protection. If anything happens you will be back in the healing rooms, and you have been there enough lately.”

 

“Oh well, I am sorry that I had to go there and give birth, and that I was nearly killed so I had to go there again,” I replied sarcastically. “How thoughtless of me to use the place for its actual purpose and exactly when I needed to.”

 

“That is not what I meant,” Círdan screeched angrily. “You are deliberately twisting my words.”

 

“Go stick your head in a pig,” I yelled, and went to walk away.

 

“Oh no you don’t,” Círdan flung me over his shoulder and took me into the bedroom.

 

He slung me on the bed, not taking any heed that I had just recovered from a severe neck injury. He then held my wrists together and sat on my legs so that I could not move. I suppose if I had put any force behind it I could have moved quite easily, but I was worn out and upset. Eventually, after I had stopped struggling and swearing at him, Círdan moved forward and took me into his arms.

 

“Melethen, I love you so much and I do not want to see you come to harm,” he said, as I maintained my rigid composure. “I also think that you might want to avoid getting hurt, so that you do not have to go to the healing block ever again. You are so scared of what happens there.”

 

I said nothing. If I was that scared I would have demanded a warrior escort when leaving for the library.

 

“If a warrior does not give his all in battle he might become even more injured and compromise the safety of others in doing so,” Círdan continued to witter. “You are one of the finest of all the warriors in the land, and when you fight you do not even consider that you might become injured. You know that every time you fight there is a risk of being hurt, and that you could end up in the healing rooms, but you still do not let it sway you.” So what was his argument then? He was saying just before that I might let my phobia affect my fighting, and then he says that I am fearless and would let nothing hold me back when in action. He needed to make his mind up.

 

“I am not scared of the healing rooms or being in pain,” I said. “I am scared of the treatment room.”

 

“But that is irrational. I know you woke up during Cireolas’ birth and felt everything, but that was the act of an incompetent healer. Nothing like that will happen again.”

 

“I associate that room with absolute, complete and utter agony,” I replied, barely keeping my anger under control. “It is getting worse, and I do not think that I will ever be free of the fear.”

 

“The only way to be free is to confront your fear,” Círdan suggested. “Anyway, it did not bother you when you gave birth to the twins.”

 

“I was drugged up to the eyeballs and did not care. I couldn’t tell what was going on, or where I was. So it was all right.” I replied. “Believe me, if I could have gone in that room today, I would have done. I could not stop the things I did when trying to flee, and I am embarrassed that I threw up on Elrond and fainted.”

 

“You still need to overcome the fear.” Círdan kissed my lips. “Nothing will happen to you in there. If you are agreeable, I will go in with you and we will keep Elrond and Saelir outside. Do you think that might work?”

 

“I have no idea,” I replied softly, wishing that everything would stop and go away. I never used to be scared of anything, and I know that this phobia is unreasonable. Even directly after my bad experience, I was not half as phobic as I am now.

 

I really do not know what to do about it and yet I fear that Círdan is right. I do have to overcome this fear, and it is irrational.

 

Sometimes I really wish that I was not me.

 

 

 


	35. Part 98 – Fear and Terror in Mithlond. Part 99 – The Grimoire of the Maiar. Part 100 – Exposed! Part 101 – Arwen’s Descendant Cures my Phobia.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ereolas realises that he is the focus of attention for a psychotic killer. Mel uses the Grimoire of the Maiar and his true identity is revealed. The murderer is unmasked. Ereolas is bitten by a snake.

 

**Part 98 – Fear and Terror in Mithlond.**

 

 

It really is intolerable.

 

Eight elven warriors are dead and two more are seriously ill, because some bastard smeared poison over my throne. Not only that, poison was smeared over Cireolas’ throne as well. I will tear them to shreds when I catch whoever it is. How dare someone try to kill my ion.

 

It appears that the warriors were doing their nightly patrol through the various rooms, when they all decided to take turns sitting on mine and Círdan's thrones. Warriors do that sort of thing and we turn a blind eye to it; castle watch is not the most riveting job on Middle-earth.  According to one of the warriors, who did not sit on my throne, the others started convulsing and writhing around in agony, howling with distress and clawing at their faces. Eventually they were consumed with seizures and died. The two warriors, who are in the healing rooms, were the last to sit on my throne. The poison had mostly been absorbed and there was very little left. They are not expected to live. Saelir has put them to sleep, to save them from the protracted agony that is accompanying their slow deaths.

 

I am extremely angry, absolutely furious and livid. How dare someone try to sentence my ion to an incredibly painful and terrifying death, and how dare they kill my guards. I want to kill whoever it was, and I will. I will tear them apart with my bare hands! Círdan has vowed the same. My elflings will be guarded by Celebrían, Alassë and Merilnis today. All are warrior trained, with Merilnis being the most bloodthirsty elleth I have ever met. I do not rate the chances of anyone who would try to cross them.

 

The castle is in lockdown until the perpetrator is found and executed. The guards are delivering bread and cheese to all the residents, and that is all they are going to get until this is over.  All the rooms are locked, and the residents have to stay in them. The kitchens are empty; there is no gardening being done; the cleaning can wait, and the many peripheral daily jobs will not be done today. The castle walls are being patrolled by warriors; the drawbridge is up, and the portcullis is down. The moat is fed by the sea; it would be a cold swim for anyone seeking to escape, and my warrior’s would see them straightaway. All windows are to remain closed; any seen open will be immediately investigated.

 

The warriors have all been assessed for their loyalty by Erestor, with about three-quarters of them cleared. All warriors with any connection to the idle rich, however tenuous, have been locked in their rooms. We can trust no one. The trusted warriors are going to every room and checking that the elves who should be there, actually are. We have a list of elves who are away at the moment; they will be questioned when they come back and will be required to verify that they did not stay in Mithlond but travelled outside the realm.  All borders are now secure. Orders have been sent to the patrol guards, to turn back all visitors and to arrest anyone passing out of our realm. The docks have been closed and no ships are allowed to enter the harbour, or to sail. There is a curfew in the town and nearest villages; those in need are to be given assistance with food and medical supplies, but they may have to wait some time for it. I have been informed that an elleth and her husband, who live in the town, have been moved to the healer’s, with a warrior guard, because she is in labour. We do not expect any further movement.

 

Now we have to wait. In the meantime, we have to hunt for hiding places.

 

Erestor and Elrond are exploring places where an elf could hide poison; my ada is certain that they would not keep something as dangerous as that in their rooms. One smear on the skin is enough to kill, and so it makes sense that the murderer would find an alternate place to hide it.

 

Legolas, Glorfindel and Mel are searching the attics. Círdan, Elladan and Elrohir are searching the kitchens and related store rooms. Thranduil and I are to check the stables. We are all wearing thick leather gloves, up to our upper arms, and thigh high boots, with body covering leather armour. This is a precaution. The killer might have smeared the poison on any surface, so we have to be extra careful.

 

Círdan has told the guards that if they let anyone out of their rooms, for whatever reason, he will regard it as an act of treason. They understand the seriousness of what we are doing, plus they are enraged by the murder of their fellow warriors. They want to see justice done.

 

o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o

 

Thranduil and I made our way to the stables. The stable hands would not have been able to get to the horses because of the lock down, and so we needed to feed and water them and let them out into their field. As we approached, Thranduil told me that something felt wrong. I agreed. There was no noise at all. Everything was silent.

 

First of all, we checked the outside perimeter. There was a hole dug under the floor of the stables that was not immediately apparent as it was behind a bush.

 

“That must be where they gained access,” Thranduil said in almost a whisper. We already felt what we would find inside.

 

The whole place had an aura of death. Whatever we were going to see in the stable would not be pleasant.

 

We went to the front door of the large barn. My sword flipped up the metal handle to release the bar behind, so the door could swing open. We did not want to risk touching a handle that might be poisoned, even though our fingers were protected.

 

“By Manwë, I hope I am wrong,” Thranduil grimaced. “But there is nothing alive in there.”

 

“I do not believe you are wrong,” I said as we walked forward.

 

Everything was still and silent. The smell of death was strong. As we opened the first stall we reared back in horror at the sight that met our eyes. My horse lay dead on the floor, her eyes staring wildly and bulging out, and her teeth bared in an agonised rictus. Along her side, there was a deep gash, which had been made so that her insides could be pulled out.  They were draped around the stall, like some obscene wall decoration.

 

Tears ran down my face as the contents of my stomach spilt upon the floor. I could hear Thranduil vomiting outside the barn. He came back in and apologised for leaving me on my own.

 

“Círdan’s horse is in the next stall,” I said in a fearful whisper.

 

Círdan's horse was dead; it had died the same way as mine, but the body had not been mutilated. We made our way through the stalls. Every single horse had been poisoned. None had been spared. I wondered how I was going to break the news to those whose horses were resident in the royal stables. Thranduil roared to Manwë to avenge him when he saw his own horse laying dead on the floor. Asfaloth was dead, and I knew that Glorfindel would show no mercy to the one who was guilty when he or she was found. Mel had kept the same name for every one of the horses he owned since he was a small elfling; his huge black charger, Tit-Willow, lay dead on the ground. Erestor’s horse, Mr. Ploppy, a fearsome, bad tempered beast that bit whenever it could, lay unmoving and cold. Legolas had the most beautiful and sweet tempered horse, whose name was Cupcake, and she had not been able to escape the murderous attentions of the poisoner either. The killer had seen fit to drape her insides around the stall too. Elladan’s horse, Slash, and Elrohir’s horse, Double Slash, were also victims.

 

In all, fifteen horses were killed; including the tiny pony Círdan had bought for Cireolas, the day before, because he had been so well behaved recently. Legolas’ horse and mine were the only ones that were mutilated. There was a clue, and I racked my brains to think of an answer as to why it should be so.

 

“Ada,” Thranduil said. “I think that whoever it is must hate you and Legolas, and what he did to your horse is a message.”

 

“That had already occurred to me,” I replied, privately wondering if my ion thought I was stupid. I suspect that he was saying it to achieve some clarity in his own mind, and needed to say it out loud to make sure we were both of the same opinion.

 

We climbed up the step ladder to the upper level to check for possible hiding places amongst the bales of straw. “The smell of death is here too,” I said to Thranduil, who nodded in agreement.

 

The smell was different to that of the horses. We knew that there was at least one dead elf on this level. However, we did not expect to see the Master ostler, his wife and their two elflings, strung up like chickens. All had been forced to take the poison.

 

“I did not think that it could get any worse,” Thranduil said. looking at me, his face lined with grief. “Who is sick enough to do something like this, and who have you and Legolas pissed off so much that innocents die because of you?”  He sounded mystified, rather than accusing, and so I could not take offence at the question.

 

“I have no idea,” I replied. “Do you remember when I was young and that mad elleth tried to kill me because of something I was supposed to have done when I was Oropher?”

 

Thranduil nodded.

 

“It could be something like that, although, she is dead now, so we can safely rule her out of the equation. However, it might be someone like her, but who it can be I just do not know.” I felt scared and vulnerable, because my enemy was unknown to me. We left the stables and I looked up at the castle windows; anyone could be aiming an arrow at us. I did not want to appear anything but brave in front of my ion, and so I held my head up high and walked back to the main door. We discussed how we were going to break the news to the owners of the horses. I was also mentally deciding the arrangements to be put in place for the dead family in the stables.

 

o0o0o0o

 

There is so much going around in my head. I am trying to recall conversations, meetings, interactions, anything that might throw light on the horrific events of the day. There are so many things and yet none of them seem consequential enough to warrant this type of action, if any was ever warranted at all. I really do not know, and for the first time I am fearful of our future.

 

I fear that those who would see me gone will be successful. I will not allow my elflings to live in a place where they are in danger. We will go to Mirkwood until Círdan can root out those who would cause us harm. I am an ada, and I need to do what is best for my elflings first. If I were not, I would stay and hunt them down.

 

I know that I will be running away, and it will look as if I am a coward, but my elflings are not able to fend for themselves. Now an attempt has been made on Cireolas’ life, it would be madness to stay.

 

My only hope is that the killer does not follow me.

 

 

 

**Part 99 – The Grimoire of the Maiar.**

 

The Master Ostler and his family were buried together under the spreading oak tree near the river. They liked to sit there when they picnicked in the summer months. Círdan asked the Valar to receive their fëar, and Mel confirmed that this was already done. Nàmo had told Mel the night before, when he visited Este’s garden in his dreams, that he would be receiving a family of four elves. My brother did not say anything, because Nàmo did not indicate their location, but now he knew it had to be them.

 

After the burial we went to the barn and piled bales of hay at strategic points inside. Then we piled more bales against the outer sides of the stables. Then we set light to them and watched in silence.  All of us had said goodbye to our horses, apart from Celebrían and Merilnis who were guarding the elflings. Círdan decided that the building should be burnt to the ground, so that the evil could be expunged forevermore. The flames grew higher and the walls eventually caught alight. We remained silent, each of us lost in our thoughts and grieving for the innocents who had died in this murderous surfeit of destruction.

 

Legolas was horrified when he saw what had happened to Cupcake and my horse. “Why would the killer single us out?” he asked me. “I am sure that I have offended no one for that to happen.”

 

“You do not need to offend an elf who would go to these lengths,” Ada Erestor said. “They do it for insane reasons of their own.”

 

Mel and Glorfindel stood watching, their Valar given light shining from them as their rage intensified with each crack of the burning wood. They vowed vengeance, as did all of us who were there. Thranduil stood with Elrond and his two ionen, and Círdan and I stood together, his arm around my shoulders, as we I stared into the flames.

 

“I was thinking of fleeing with the elflings to Mirkwood until the killer is found,” I said. “However, I think that wherever I go the killer will come after me.”

 

“If only you could be safe in Mirkwood, I would agree immediately,” Círdan replied. “However, I fear that you are right. If you flee you will bring danger to the realm you go to, and that would be unacceptable.”

 

The castle remained in lockdown. It was nearing midday, so we left the building to burn and continued in our search.

 

The castle has many hidden passages and not all of them are known to us. We went to the library to examine the blueprints to the castle, hoping to find where alterations to the castle had been made, but we could not find them. Normally they are kept locked away with the books of questionable taste and the Grimoire of the Maiar, which was entrusted to Círdan for safe keeping during the second age by Aulendil, whom the elves later knew as Sauron. Círdan did not trust him even then, but agreed to take the Grimoire. He considered that it was safer away from Aulendil than remaining in his hands. He put the book on the next ship crossing to Valinor, and was told to take it back and wait for a time when another would use the information inside it. We believe that one is Gandalf; however, we do not dare touch it as it seems to have a life of its own. Elbereth has woven such complex spells around the book that it cannot be opened by anyone unless they are beloved of the Valar, which means that if Sauron did manage to retrieve his book it would be useless to him.

 

We searched in all the various places that the blueprints might be hidden, but it was fruitless. Mel used his powers to illuminate anything noxious in the rooms we entered, and to unlock all the keyless doors and ones barricaded from the other side. It seemed increasingly likely that the poison was secreted away in a hidden passage, and that the missing blueprints were not just a blind to fool us.

 

“I have had enough of this,” Mel said irritably, before turning round and storming off. We followed him to the library, wanting to see what he would do, and gasped when we saw him lifting the Grimoire of the Maiar out of its heavily chained box. The chains melted in Mel’s hands and the box splintered into many parts as he lifted the Grimoire towards him. It seemed to me that the Grimoire was celebrating its release.

 

Mel put the book on the table. He lifted the heavy tooled black slate and carved gold cover, and a brilliant light shone from the pages onto his face. He changed appearance, astonishing us all. Elrond told me that I was seeing Mel in his Maia form. I have never seen one so beautiful. His hair turned white and spread out away from his body. As his light intensified my brother's face became a shining light of pure brilliance, many times the radiance of elves blessed by the Valar and painful to look upon. The pages turned as glowing, fiery fingers flipped their edges, and then all became still.

 

The book rose into the air, so that it was level with Mel’s chest, and he read from it. His voice was quiet and loud at the same time. Thunder and lightning crashed around his form as he said the words. “With the Lord Manwë, Lord of the Valar and Lord of all Airs, guiding my hand, I mark your fëa forevermore. You will reveal yourself to me.” We were frightened out of our wits by that point, especially as the whole room was shaking. We held onto one another, surreptitiously so we did not appear to be alarmed, and watched as Mel pointed his hand to the ceiling. “Above me you shall not escape justice.” A bolt of pure lightning issued from his hand and shot through the ceiling.

 

Then he pointed to the floor and said, “Below me you shall not escape justice.” More lightning issued from his hand down into the floor. Mel then turned around in a circle with his hand pointing outwards; the book moved with him. “Around me you shall not escape justice.” We ducked, so that the disc of lightning streams surrounding Mel did not hit us, and watched as they permeating the walls of the room.

 

Then Mel held his hand above his head and streams of light shot from his hand in all directions. The room became so intensely bright that we had to cover our eyes with the palms of our hands. Then Mel uttered his final words, “Vile murderer of elflings, elves and horses, kill yourself in the way you most fear to die. By Lord Námo's command you will die forever. Your death will be final and your fëa will cease to exist. Never will you be reborn or re-embodied. This is your fate and it is irresistible to you. The Judgement of the Valar has been passed.”

 

The book landed on the table and slammed shut. Mel stood in his normal form, his hair now black and face normal, grinning as we stared. “Come on then.” He walked towards the door. We continued to look at him in amazement and wonder, even Glorfindel who walks in the light and in Middle-earth at the same time. “Do I have to go by myself?”

 

“Er...no,” Glorfindel replied. “Come on everyone.” He walked over to the door.

 

We followed them into the corridor. “I think I know what way to go,” Mel said brightly. “Wherever it is, the murderer and their hiding place will be revealed to me.”

 

“He could have done that at the start and saved a lot of time and energy,” Erestor said in a whisper to Legolas.

 

“I can hear you,” Mel said joyfully. “I can hear even your loudest thoughts. Anyway, I did not know the Grimoire could be used by me. I did not think I had that kind of power. It is mine now. Manwë said so, and I am taking it back to Imladris with me.”

 

“Nothing like asking,” Círdan joked. In truth, we were glad to get rid of the book. It had an awesome power of its own and was beyond the strength of any of us. Elrond later remarked that Mel was only able to manage the book because Sauron had given him half of Saruman’s power fifty years before, which in addition to his own made him very powerful indeed. I am just glad that he remained a warrior and did not try to become a wizard, who knows what might have happened if he had.

 

We continued to walk together in a group, with Mel at the head of us. It would have been pointless to go anywhere else, as the location would be revealed to him, once it was within sight.

 

I could not help feeling apprehensive; supposing Mel had not taken into account any traps that might be laid for us. I also wondered what would be the sight that met our eyes.

 

It was no use pondering; we were nearly at a conclusion. Soon this would be over and we could relax. We followed Mel, with the anticipation of a swift and just end to come for the one who had killed so many.

 

I prayed to the Valar that this day would soon be over.

 

 

 

**Part 100 – Exposed!**

 

 

We worked upwards, quickly exploring each floor of the castle, until we came to the floor that was completely taken up with mine and Círdan’s huge apartment.

 

“I only know of one secret passage,” Círdan said. “We use that all the time and so I do not think there will be anything on this floor.”

 

“We still need to look,” Mel replied.

 

“Yes, I know. I was just saying that I do not think there will be anything on this floor, that is all.”

 

“I think my ion knows what he is doing.” Erestor smirked, in a most superior way. Really he can be most trying at times. Obviously, he is still sore about the paintings.

 

“Let it go,” Legolas said to my ada, as he took his arm and pulled him away. “You just don’t know when to keep quiet, do you?”

 

“All I said was...”

 

“Hush now,” Legolas said quickly. “I do not want to hear anymore. The subject is closed.”

 

Erestor exhaled heavily and murmured something, to which Legolas replied that if he could not say things out loud he should not say anything at all.

 

“Will you two stop arguing?” Mel said loudly. “I am trying to concentrate.”

 

Círdan and I smirked at Erestor. Ada Legolas glared at us. Erestor gave us his best sneer, took Legolas’ arm and walked in front. Through my mind connection, we discussed how childish Erestor was being, and how glad we were that there were two copies of the paintings. Even though we never intended showing the paintings, it was the principle that counted.

 

Mel opened the door to our chambers with his dagger and instructed us not to touch it as it was covered in poison. The official reception room was empty, but that was all right as we expected to find the ladies and elflings in the smaller family room that was for our private use. When we arrived, Celebrían and Merilnis were sitting with the twins and Cireolas. Geli and Ereodan were wide awake and squealing with laughter as Merilnis sang the song about the one legged donkey who couldn’t put his hat on. Cireolas was showing Celebrían how he could write his name.

 

“Where is Alassë?” Círdan asked.

 

“We were sick over her, weren’t we Ereodan?” Geli called out. She had her tiny teddy beside her and a little pink duck that Cireolas had bought for her at the market.

 

“Yes, we don’t like her,” Ereodan agreed, before grabbing hold of his foot and putting his toes in his mouth. “She keeps telling us what to do.”

 

"She is in the bathroom having a bath,” Merilnis said. “Although I do not see that such a tiny amount of sick warranted such an excess of washing, but there it is; she was most adamant.”

 

Mel marched off to the bathroom and opened the handle with his dagger. “Do not touch this door handle,” he said. “It has poison on it.” He came back out of the room. “She is not there; however I have found something of interest. Come with me and do not touch anything.”

 

We all trooped into the bathroom and saw that the taps had been smeared with poison. Over on the far wall, where a country scene had been painted, there was a door shaped line that was most artfully hidden by the painted mural of a pastoral scene. The door followed the shape of a tree and one of the branches leading from it. I had no idea that it was there and neither did Círdan.

 

Mel commanded the door to open and it moved inwards.  “The edge of the door is smeared with poison. Make sure that you do not touch the sides.”

 

I counted ourselves lucky that we had the benefit of such thick leather protection, and I must say that I looked stunningly and marvellously hot and sexy in the black thigh-high leather boots and arm length leather gloves. The body protection looked good too. I noticed that Elrond encouraged Erestor to walk in front of him. I expect that Erestor knew why; he is a wily one and knows the motives for most things. I wondered what Legolas thought of Erestor indulging his former lover like that, or if even he suspected.

 

We followed Mel into an old passage that must have been left over from the days when the rooms on the floor served a different purpose. There were very few cobwebs, which indicated recent activity. We proceeded slowly, because Mel did. I think he sensed that there might be a sudden danger.

 

Just after we rounded a corner in the passage, Mel turned and faced us. “There is a room beyond,” he whispered. “The murderer is in there.”

 

We approached the room. We saw Alassë, sitting on a chair in the middle of a pool of poison.

 

“Please help me,” she cried in a tiny, frightened voice. “I am not able to get out of here without my foot touching the poison.”

 

“Someone get help for her,” Círdan ordered, sounding rather shocked and a tad upset. “We need blankets to soak up the poison. Who is evil enough to do this to a poor defenceless elleth?”

 

“Do not enter the room at any cost, or else you will die,” Mel said to us all. “The pool of poison is too deep and it will soak through the stitching of your boots.”

 

Mel changed into his Maia form and walked across to Alassë.  “You have been found out and judged,” he said. He smiled at her. “I am Maia. Your poison cannot touch me.”

 

Surely not Alassë?

 

I thought that Mel must be badly wrong or playing a ruse. Alassë had never shown anything but kindness to our elflings. Círdan squeezed my hand and put his arm around me. “Mel knows what he is doing,” he whispered. “He is a Maia. He sees the truth before we do.”

 

“I do not know what you are talking about,” Alassë said and looked at me. “I am not the murderer. I thought you had all come to rescue me.”

 

My heart went out to her. “Do not make a move,” Círdan said to me. “She seeks to lure you into the room and for the poison to soak through your boots and kill you.”

 

I did not know whether to believe him, but then I saw her pleading with Ada Legolas and I knew Círdan was right. Mine and Legolas’ horses were both mutilated, whereas the others were not. The killer had singled us out for special attention and now she was doing it again.

 

“Stay,” Ada Erestor said and held my ada’s arm. “It is interesting, is it not, that she pleads with you and Ereolas only, as if trying to draw you into the room.”

 

“I sense the blood of many on her hands,” Glorfindel said softly; he looked at Mel who nodded his head. “She killed Asfaloth.” He looked as if he could tear her apart with his bare hands.

 

“Do as the Valar command,” Mel said to her. “Kill yourself in the manner you are most frightened of. You are already half way there.” He handed his dagger to her and she pleaded with him to release her from the horror of the death she knew would come. How terrified she must have been, and yet the sentence was just, because of all the innocents she had killed. “You find it irresistible,” he said softly. “It is your only desire; one that must be fulfilled.”

 

“But why would she kill so many?” I was distressed and wondered how I would tell Cireolas that his nanny was dead. “And why the Master Ostler’s family?”

 

“Stupid, simple Ereolas,” Alassë sneered madly as the blade pierced her belly. “I tried to kill you once before, and with every rebirth I will continue to hunt you down and kill all who get in the way. I will succeed.” The blade pushed in further and a thin line of blood trickled down her lower belly. She looked distressed and cried out with the pain. “How easy it was to get close to you and your family. You are lucky that I did not kill your elflings.”

 

“You did not kill his elflings because you did not get the chance,” Mel told her. “The only reason you wanted to hurt Legolas was because he slit your throat as you held my baby brother over the wall of the tower, threatening to drop him to his death. Isn’t that right, Laurë?”

 

The blade went in further and shot to one side so that her insides fell out onto the floor. She screamed in agony and her vomit spilled onto the floor. Mel looked at the rest of us who stood in horrified, questioning silence.

 

“This is part of her punishment, decided by the Valar,” Mel said to us all. “It is no less than she deserves.”

 

Alassë slumped forward and fell from the chair, into the poison. Her body contorted in agonised contractions, and in one desperate last look at me she gasped, “Ereolas, I am Laurë. I will always come after you. Every time I am reborn, I will try to kill you for taking Alatáriël away from me. Beware of me, as I am Laurë. I am your nemesis.”

 

“Actually, no,” Mel said to her.

 

“What?” she asked in disbelief, as she clawed at her face to remove the poison dripping from her chin.

 

“This is the last time your fëa shall live. The second part of your Valar decided punishment, is that your fëa will be destroyed as soon as it departs from your body. So it seems, dear lady, that you are indeed your own nemesis, and not Ereolas’ at all.”

 

She screamed a long drawn out, ‘No’ before slumping down onto her death bed of bright green poison. Mel caught the fëa in his hands as Nàmo appeared beside him. He took the fëa from Mel and crushed it between his palms, then he blew the mass from his hand and it fell as a black rain onto the pool beneath his feet. Nàmo waved his hand and ordered that the poison should come unto itself without causing further harm. Droplets of green matter flew past our heads to the pool in the room. It was a wonder that none of it struck our skin. I assumed that the poison flew in from every part of the castle where it had been smeared. The green pool threatened to spill over the doorway and Nàmo told us to stand back.  When all the poison had landed in the room, Nàmo waved his hand and the pool started to slowly shrink away from the floor. Eventually it disappeared, as if into nothing.

 

“Why was Laurë allowed a rebirth so soon after dying last time?” Legolas demanded of Nàmo. “She has killed so many.”

 

“Who knows the ways of Eru?” Nàmo said enigmatically. “Who are we to question his will?”

 

“Well it is not good enough, and I want you to tell him,” Ada Legolas said angrily.

 

“He knows everything before you even say it,” Nàmo replied, giving Legolas a sympathetic smile.

 

“Let us not argue,” Mel said. “All is at a conclusion, and we are once again enjoying our safety.”

 

“What safety?” I asked as though Mel was an idiot. “Elves keep trying to kill me.”

 

“You are under our protection, Oropher,” Nàmo said to me. “We have already promised that we will not allow your life to be taken while you live in Middle-earth. We agreed that would be your reward for being re-embodied, so that Ereinion could be reborn. However, that does not mean that you will not be subject to further assassination attempts.”

 

It was interesting that Nàmo called me by my old name and not Ereolas. I look exactly as I did when Oropher, so perhaps he made a mistake; although, he is a Vala and so it is most unlikely. I also do not remember Manwë telling me anything about my life being protected. Maybe they decided not to tell me; however, that was an emotional day and maybe I did not take in all I was told.

 

“What shall we do with her body?” Erestor asked Círdan and me.

 

“Burn it,” I replied. “What else is there to do?”

 

Mel waved his hand and Alassë’ body rose through the air. I could only feel sadness and compassion for her, in spite of everything she had done. How aggrieved she must have felt, to have still pursued me. She was driven to madness in her former life, and it seems she carried her hatred of me, and the memory of Legolas killing her, into her new life after being reborn. It also disturbed me that she tried to kill Cireolas; the reason for that we will never know. I expect the only reason that his new horse was not mutilated, was because she did not know that Círdan had bought it for him. We all make our choices, and, in the end, Alassë’s behaviour was down to her. She was able to live a normal life while plotting my death. She did not have to kill, she chose to.

 

Alassë’ body became smaller before our eyes, until it became as small as a tiny pea. Nàmo held it over a candle and as the flame licked his unfeeling fingers, the tiny body burnt until it was a small speck of ash.

 

“Laure exists only in our memories,” Nàmo said to us. “This is the first ever fëa belonging to an elf that I have seen totally destroyed. You must excuse me, for this has affected all of the Valar. This is not our way at all.”

 

“But Lord Manwë ordered it,” Círdan said to him.

 

“Eru gave him the instruction,” Nàmo replied. “We cannot defy his song. I must depart now. This is a sad day for us all.”

 

The Vala of the dead dematerialised. We stood staring at Mel who had now changed back to his elven form. “Come on then. Let’s go and see the kids.”

 

 

**Part 101 – Arwen’s Descendant Cures my Phobia.**

 

 

How bloody irritated was I?

 

When I was much younger, in my early twenties, Mel used his powers to make a snake talk. and coloured it gold, silver and turquoise with a zigzag along her back. He named her Arwen, and gave her to Ada Erestor for his birthday, when she bit him. The snake adored Ada Erestor, and he taught her how to talk properly. It was probably one of those sublimation things. Maybe, Erestor wanted another elfling, so he looked upon the snake as the tiny daughter he never had. Anyway, we travelled to Mithlond, to say goodbye to my friend Elerossë, who would be sailing the next day. Erestor let her out of her carrying bag as soon as we were shown to our rooms, and she disappeared. We assumed that she was off sulking because Erestor had threatened to snap her neck if she bit me.

 

To cut a long story short, it seems that Arwen was pregnant. She decided to have her babies in the castle gardens, because she considered them to be a nice, safe place for her venomous little offspring to be born. Adders give birth to live young. She came back several days later looking thinner and very pleased with herself.

 

“Don’t you want to go and look after your babies?” Erestor asked when she proudly informed him that she was a mother.

 

“We do not look after our young,” she hissed happily. “They have all left now and they are well equipped to start their new life. It looks a very safe area here.”

 

How I wanted to kill her, and even more so, now that one of her descendants has bitten me. I had no idea that her vile offspring were still living in the palace gardens. On the other hand, my phobia of the treatment room has now receded into a mild apprehension.

 

*o*o*o*o*

 

“Come, meleth,” Círdan said as we put the babies down to rest, with Aglarien and the very pregnant Erviniae watching over them. “We will be late if we do not leave now.”

 

“I will come straightaway,” I said as I put Geli down. “Do not teach them how to be naughty elflings while I am away,” I said to my minxy friends, who merely smirked and replied that what the eye does not see, the heart does not grieve over.

 

Cireolas was already asleep in his bed, and so I kissed him and left the room.

 

Orophin is going to look after our elflings, as we feel that they need a firm hand. Haldir has come for a holiday and he will be assessing what our elflings need in the way of tutors and nannies. Then he will engage the staff required. It is better that he does this, as he is more experienced than us, and we did make a rather dreadful judgement in choosing Alassë, even though she seemed ideal at the time.

 

We rode out to meet Haldir and his party and all went well. On the way back, a snake dropped from one of the large oaks that form a covered walkway on one of the paths leading to the castle. I must admit to screeching some rather purple prose, consisting for the most part of swear words, after the snake sunk its fangs into the skin just under my eye.

 

It was a gold, silver and turquoise snake, with a zigzag along its back. “Oops, sorry didn’t see you there,” it hissed quickly. It sniggered at me when it was out of striking distance. “Hahaha! Another elf bites the dust.” It slithered off at the speed of light, kicking up the dust in its wake with its pointy tail.

 

I held my face where the fangs had pierced, and yelled about a hundred threats and swear words at its retreating form. Bloody snake.

 

“Let me see,” Círdan said, pulling my hand away from my rapidly swelling face. “That looks bad.” Just to reassure me, Círdan also said that he would be surprised if I did not lose my eye.

 

“It is a bad one,” Haldir said. “Your lower lid is so swollen that I doubt you will be able to open your eye for weeks. You could even go blind.”

 

Fine. I was surrounded by elves who offered comfort and reassurance in abundance.

 

Orophin suggested that we stop prattling and get to the healing block. “I have seen injuries like this and often time is of the essence. He could die if we do not get a move on.”

 

What is it with these elves? They seem determined to look on the gloomy side and write me off. Even the warriors, who accompanied them, insisted on discussing all the elves they had known who had been bitten and the terrible consequences they had suffered.

 

We reached the healing block, and Elrond fairly laughed his tits off. So did Saelir. No Yule greetings cards for them this year. I started to feel woozy and sick, and threw up over Círdan’s feet, which I felt he thoroughly deserved. “You could have held yourself,” he barked, annoyance written all over his face.

 

“No, he couldn’t,” Elrond said in my defence, trying, no doubt, to win his Yule card back. “The bite was very near his brain, so he won’t be able to control any of his body actions.” At that point I prayed to Manwë not to let me piss myself, knowing that I would never be allowed to live it down if I did.

 

Círdan, remarked that the bite could not have been near my brain as the snake had not bitten anywhere near my arse. I thought that when I was recovered, he will explain himself.

 

I was hauled onto a bed, but I could not lay still. My limbs kept jerking, almost as if I was having a seizure. The room was spinning around, and I was aware that I was babbling at Círdan for being an insensitive bastard. I am glad the babies’ were not there; they would have certainly expressed an opinion on that, and I expect it would not have been favourable towards my husband.

 

“Right, into the treatment room with you,” Saelir said happily, as though he was going to really enjoy what happened next.

 

I was too far gone to panic. Elrond held my head still, in an overly firm grip, while Saelir stuck large needles into where the snake’s fangs had pierced my skin, so he could drain off what remained of the poison. Then I was given some medicine to relax my muscles and stop my arms and legs jerking. Those two do everything together. If Saelir was not so newly in love with Aikanáro, I would swear they are lovers. On the other hand, they were participants in my adas impromptu orgy, so it is possible that they are anyway. Still, I am well known for not approving of gossip and it really is none of my business.

 

The pressure was relieved and I felt a lot better. I had the most astonishing headache and facial pain though. Every time I tried to raise my head, throbbing bolts of agony shot through it, like when one is affected by a particularly strong hangover. My limbs still jerked, but not as much as before.

 

“Stay lying down until it passes,” Elrond said and then asked Círdan if he would like a cup of tea.

 

“Can I have one?” I asked.

 

“Certainly not,” came the reply. “We don’t want you being sick in here. Wait until you get back to your rooms.”

 

“We are still in the treatment room,” Círdan explained to me. “You seem to be doing very well with your phobia.”

 

The truth was that my surroundings had not been so important as relieving the pain. Also, nothing nasty was happening to me, as I feared it would every time I even went near the room previously. I lay there for the next hour with the sharp pain radiating across my face and inside my head. Círdan held my hand and stroked my back, as I lay gritting my teeth.

 

Elrond came back into the room, full of smiles, and asked loudly if my headache had gone. I gave him a most miserable and baleful look. He shook his head and sighed. “Let’s give you some healing.” He placed his hand over my cheek and eye, while joking that I was an attention seeker. I did not care; the pain was fading. In the end, I fell into a deep sleep.

 

I awoke late in the night, in my rooms. Thranduil was sitting on the bed beside me and eating grapes.

 

“Why don’t you come and live in Mirkwood with Merilnis and me, Ada?” he said with his mouth full; a most deplorable habit. “You won’t be bitten by snakes there.”

 

I raised my eyebrows. “Have all the poisonous giant spiders been exterminated then?”

 

“Well,” Thranduil said, whilst stuffing more grapes in his mouth, “better the tool of Melkor you know, than the one you don’t.”

 

“Do you have to talk with your mouth full?” Pulling a face at his extreme disregard of etiquette.

 

“Yes, I am afraid that I do.” He gave me a cheeky smile. “I am a king, so I can do what I like.”

 

“You sound like Cireolas.”

 

“Do you want a grape? The kitchens sent them up for you, but I seem to have eaten most of them.”

 

“Get me a mirror.” I sat up, feeling woozy, but determined that I needed to see the damage to my face.

 

Thranduil handed me the hand mirror from the dressing table. My face was rapidly healing. There were bright purple bruises around the eye, and the top of my cheek, but otherwise the swelling had gone down. I lay back down on the bed and told Thranduil that I was going back to sleep.

 

“I will stay here with you until Círdan takes over.” Thranduil kissed my cheek. “Would you like me to tell you a story?”

 

That made me laugh, but not enough to stop me falling back to sleep.

 

I awoke the next morning feeling as right as rain and very happy. “Wake up, Círdan,” I said loudly to my sleeping husband as I shook his shoulder. He smelt of drink.

 

“Go away.” His voice sounded desperate. “I have a hangover. I feel terrible.”

 

“How have you got a hangover, my sweet one?” I asked a shade too loudly.

 

“We celebrated Haldir and Orophin’s safe arrival a shade too vigorously last night.” He sounded really miserable. “Do you have to talk in such a loud voice?”

 

“Who is looking after the babies?” I asked sweetly.

 

“Damned if I know.”

 

I rang for the servants, before going into the elflings' bedroom. They swiftly delivered early morning drinks. Cireolas drank hot chocolate from his feeder cup, while I had a cup of tea. Afterwards, I fed and changed the elflings, who loudly demanded to know why they had been allowed to sleep in.

 

“We probably won’t be able to sleep for the rest of the day now,” Ereodan said. “Will we Geli?”

 

“Probably not,” Geli agreed. “You must realise, Ada, that us babies need a properly organised and structured day.”

 

“You must realise that I am your Ada and I do not have to take my tiny elflings talking to me like that.”

 

“What crawled up your arse and died?” Geli asked; although, I suspect it was more of a rhetorical question than one meant to be answered. Ereodan and Cireolas giggled at her naughtiness.

 

“Back to bed for you, if you continue to be cheeky. Cireolas and Ereodan can go and see their Grand Ada Erestor without you.” That told her. She started to cry to make me feel bad about reprimanding her.

 

“I want to see Grand Ada Erestor,” she cried. “I love him; he is my Grand Ada.”

 

I wonder why little elflings adore Erestor, when their parents are so in awe, or even scared, of him. Babies especially are fascinated by him. It is most strange. I kissed Geli’s head and told her to stop crying and she did almost instantly, therefore proving that she was only crying crocodile tears at best.

 

We eventually left the rooms and went down to breakfast. The babies fell asleep in their prams and I fed Cireolas his porridge. It was most strange, but none of my relatives or visiting circle of friends were at the table that morning.

 

Hm...How much fun am I going to have? I am sure that an early morning visit from three little elflings and me will brighten the day for all of them.

 

“Eat up quickly,” I said to Cireolas. “We have some visiting to do.” 

 

 

 

 


	36. Part 102 – Fire Drill! Part 103 – Around the Market and Back Again. Part 104 – Consequences. Part 105 – Erestor’s, ‘Two-hundred kinky ways to please your lover’ book. Part 106 – Me and My Filthy Mind!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ereolas visits the previous nights partygoers with his noisy elflings. There is a fire drill, but who ordered it? Ereolas takes Cireolas shopping. Círdan makes a stunning decision. Ereolas writes about how Círdan reacts to his practical joke. Círdan ties Ereolas to the bed so they can sort their differences out. Erestor finds out about a scurrilous book.

 

**Part 102 – Fire Drill!**

 

“Grand Ada,” Geli called out to Erestor as we saw him coming out of his rooms.

 

“Hello, Geli,” he said, and then he said hello to Cireolas and Ereodan. He looked a little worse for wear, as though he needed to go back to bed and sleep for another fourteen hours.

 

“I am just off to get Legolas some hangover cure,” Erestor explained. “I will be back soon. Why don’t you all go in and see your Grand Ada?”

 

“Hooray,” my little ones boomed loudly, causing Erestor to flinch.

 

“They are so noisy,” he said, almost whispering.

 

“You know what elflings are like,” I replied, before walking through the door into his rooms.

 

Ada Legolas looked as though he was going to be sick as Cireolas jumped on him and told him that he smelt funny. “No doubt it is the drink,” he replied, with an air of disinterest.

 

“Are you an old drunk?” Ereodan asked innocently.

 

“Certainly not!” Legolas snapped. He glared at me and demanded to know where an elfling as small as Ereodan, could get such ideas from.

 

“Reborn Ereinion,” I replied as I sat beside him.

 

“From what I hear, Ereinion was well capable of sinking a few bottles of wine,” Legolas observed tartly. Ereodan gave a smug smile, which made Legolas silently fume.

 

Geli asked him to hold her, and so he did. I noted a certain reluctance on his part. “In my former life I always drank a lot, Grand Ada. We had to so that we could deal with all the fighting and the bad things that happened. What is your excuse?” My baby iell disguised her cheekiness with a consoling manner, which didn't fool Ada one bit.

 

“This is intolerable,” Legolas boomed to me. “Your elflings are extremely rude.” He looked at Geli and Ereodan. “How dare you talk to me like that. Neither of you have much to be proud of in your former lives. Neither of you should dare to suggest that I am a habitual drunk just because I have a hangover from one party.”

 

“Touchy, aren’t you?” Geli said, her lips set in a slight smirk.

 

“I have everything to be proud of in my former life,” Ereodan said. “I was a bloody great high-king. You ask Oro...”

 

“Be quiet, Ereodan,” I said quickly, so the conversation would not stray onto dangerous ground. He sucked his thumb noisily and sighed. Geli looked up at Legolas and smiled.

 

Erestor arrived back shortly after. Legolas told him what my elflings had said. “It seems that Orophin has arrived in the nick of time,” Erestor replied before taking Cireolas and Jeli onto his lap. He felt much better now, having already taken his hangover cure.

 

Throughout Cireolas had watched but not said a thing. I suspected that he was taking everything in, for use later on. I think that Erestor was indeed right about Orophin arriving at the right time, and thanked the Valar that he had agreed to take over the care of my little ones. Orophin and Mir now have twenty-six elflings, most have come of age, or are about to, and I believe that only five of them still live at home. I did ask whether Mir would be joining him, and he said that she was not keen on the idea of uprooting the elflings from their home but urged him to go as she needed a break from having babies.

 

“I don’t know why we are so blessed by the Valar,” he once said to me. “It is like we have offended them or something. Every time I touch my wife, out pops another one.”

 

We stayed with Legolas and Erestor for the next half an hour. By then all animosity was repaired. We said goodbye and trooped off to see Thranduil.

 

My ion was as happy as a lark and overjoyed to see the elflings. Neither he nor Merilnis had hangovers, because they had not gone to the party. Merilnis had an early night and Thranduil went straight to bed after visiting me. They had breakfasted in their rooms and were ready to meet the day.

 

“I expect that Elrond and Saelir will be hung-over,” Thranduil laughed, his voice booming so loud that the windows rattled.

 

Merilnis took little Geli from me and braided side plaits in her hair, which she fastened with tiny little clasps in the shape of ducks. “Don’t you look sweet now?” she said to her.

 

Geli smiled and sucked her thumb. She was fighting to stay awake. “Thank you Grand Nana.” She closed her eyes, a sweet smile on her face.

 

“She is a lovely little girl,” Merilnis said to me. “All your elflings are lovely.”

 

“Legolas doesn’t think so,” I replied. “They more or less accused him of being a habitual drunk.”

 

Thranduil laughed so loudly that my babies woke up alarmed, but quickly settled down again. Even Cireolas had his thumb in his mouth, and looked like he was going to fall asleep as he snuggled against me.

 

“I was going to visit everyone this morning,” I said to them and related the events of the day before, adding that now the elflings were asleep I could not rely on them to be noisy and make everyone suffer.

 

“That is simply remedied.” Merilnis tugged the bell pull, and shortly after a servant arrived. Merilnis informed him that I had requested a ten o’clock fire practice on behalf of Lord Círdan, who had originally ordered it to be put in place the previous night. She added that he had told a servant to make sure that it was set for ten o’clock but wanted to check that it was still going to happen.

 

How clever she is. Everyone would have to get up, whether they wanted to or not, and all the gongs and bells being hammered throughout the building would surely drive anyone with a hangover to distraction.

 

The noise was unbelievable, especially the shouting of the fire elves, urging everyone to get out of the castle as quickly as possible in an orderly fashion. I smiled with deep satisfaction as I visualised Círdan having to get up and go outside into the courtyard. As the ruling Lord he had to set an example. I had to set an example also. We made our way out to the courtyard, and I set about reassuring the elves already there that it was merely a practice. They seemed relieved to hear this, as I would be as well.

 

Elrond and Celebrían emerged from the keep, both of them shielding their eyes from the bright sunlight. That made me smile. Saelir and Aikanáro appeared tired and a bit washed out. Erestor and Legolas looked absolutely fine. Haldir and Orophin looked a bit subdued but otherwise fine, whereas Círdan, who was one of the last ones into the courtyard, looked absolutely ill. Elladan, Elrohir, Mel and Glorfindel went off late yesterday afternoon to explore a set of caves, so they were not expected to be around, otherwise they would have probably looked a state as well.

 

“Where is the fire?” Círdan asked me.

 

“I believe it is a drill.”

 

“What?” His face was satisfyingly angry.

 

“Calm down. I believe you ordered a fire practice last night. Apparently, you stopped a servant, whilst in your drunken state, and ordered one today.”

 

“I did not,” Círdan thundered at me. “I have never heard such rubbish.”

 

“I am informed that as you were staggering back to our rooms you stopped a servant and told him that a fire practice would be a fun thing to do to the other party goers. You ordered it for ten o’clock this morning.” I maintained a deadpan expression. “It seems that everyone has to suffer because you cannot hold your drink.”

 

“Of course I can hold my drink.” Círdan glared at me. “I wasn’t that drunk, and I remember getting back to our rooms without talking to a single person.”

 

“Oh dear,” I replied. “You were so drunk that you can only remember parts of last night. We will have to get Elrond to see you, It seems as though you have quite a serious problem. Although, can one drunk cure another? That is what I would like to know.”

 

“Elrond was in a worse state than me.” Círdan muttered angrily. “Why don’t you believe me? I am telling you that I never spoke to anyone on the way back to our rooms. I think you ordered this fire practice to teach us a lesson because you missed out on a good drink last night.”

 

I gave my husband a patronising smile. “Think what you like, darling.” I put my arm around his shoulder. “If that is what you want to hold onto then it is fine by me, but one day you will have to face the truth.”

 

“I know what the truth is, and you are not telling it.”

 

I gave him an understanding smile, which infuriated him even more, before turning to speak to the chief fire officer.

 

“Excuse me,” Círdan said before I could say anything. “Who ordered this fire drill?”

 

The fire officer looked at his sheet, “Why, My Lord, it seems that you stopped a servant late last night and ordered that a fire practice be held at ten o’clock the following morning.”

 

“See?” I said. Círdan looked stunned. “No more excessive indulgence for you.”

 

“I wonder how I do not remember.” Poor Círdan, he looked totally defeated and puzzled.

 

You do not remember, melethen because it never happened, but I am not going to tell you that. Today is your punishment for all those jokes you cracked yesterday when I was in the healing rooms. I wonder if one day I should tell you. Probably not, your confusion today is rather delicious, and I look forward to carrying the deception on. I am rather gratified that Elrond and Saelir are affected by this also. I am sure they will be just as concerned at Círdan’s apparent memory loss.

 

What a clever elleth, Merilnis is. No wonder Thranduil adores her.

 

 

 

**Part 103 – Around the Market and Back Again.**

  

Círdan asked Elrond about his loss of memory. Elrond told him that it was unlikely he would have lost his memory through drink. “Elves are not human,” he said. “However, if you are convinced that you did indeed have a lapse of memory caused by drink, it would seems sensible to not drink as much.”

 

“Círdan hardly ever drinks,” I said brightly. Elrond looked at me with narrowed eyes. “I think it must be a one off.”

 

“Hm...” Elrond sipped his tea. “Have you seen Celebrían anywhere?”

 

We were sitting in the Battle of the Monkeys breakfast hall having a quick snack after the fire drill. Cireolas wanted to go to the market and buy his brother and sister a present. He was with Legolas and Erestor at the moment but I had promised to take him there, so I could not take too long drinking my tea.

 

As we rose from the table, Elrond told me to find him later in the day so he could look at my eye. I told him that it had nearly healed, but he insisted that I come along anyway. Círdan told me not to argue. As he was in a filthy mood, I decided to be the one to promote calm among us, so I said nothing more.

 

We went to the market. There were many different types of stall selling food, delicacies, snacks, clothing, household goods, books and bric-a-brac. Cireolas found a stall run by a human woman, who was selling homemade slippers. He spotted a pair of adult sized shoes in pink felted wool. Each shoe had another little shoe on top of it, so that if I put the big shoe on, for example, then one of my elflings could put their feet in the little shoes facing me and we could dance together. They were labelled as father and daughter dancing shoes and look very sweet indeed.

 

“You dance with Geli when she bigger,” Cireolas said to me and smiled. Such a sweet and generous heart my little ion has. We saw another stall where they were selling toy horses that made a farting noise when the belly was pressed. “I buy one for Erradan.”

 

Poor thing, he still cannot say all his words properly yet; however, he is getting there. We passed a stall where we saw the most amazing merry-go-round carousel, with tiny horses that bobbed up and down on poles, turning in a circle to tinkly fairground music. The craftsmanship involved in hand tooling all the different components would have taken much time and love. Little Cireolas stared at it in awe.

 

“It lovely, isn’t it Ada?” I picked him up to see it better. “Little horses round and round.”

 

“It is indeed,” I replied. “It will be a very lucky elfling who receives that for a present.”

 

'Five gold pieces,' the stall holder wrote on a piece of paper before handing it to me, no doubt guessing that I was interested.

 

Five gold pieces is half a year’s wages for most elves. Nevertheless, I mouthed to the stall holder that I wanted it. I am going to give it to Cireolas as a surprise present. He has been, for the most part, very well behaved since the twins were born. The tiny pony that Círdan bought for him was killed by Alassë and this present would make up for that. Cireolas never knew about his little pony. We were going to show it to him the afternoon after it was delivered; unfortunately it was killed during the morning. I am glad that he never had the chance to see it, in view of its fate.

 

I gave Cireolas to one of the warrior guards accompanying us. I told him to take him over to the sweet stall behind us and I would join them in a minute. I gave the stall holder the five gold pieces. She put the merry-go-round in a large carved wooden presentation box, before wrapping it in a piece of cotton sheeting, tying the corners into a handle.

 

I joined my ion and the warriors at the sweet stall. Cireolas was eating an impossibly huge candy floss that one of the warriors had bought him.

 

“Look, Ada. It melt in my mouth.” He tore off a piece off the candy and gave it to me. I thanked the warrior, who gave Cireolas back to me after I gave the box to one of the other warriors to hold. He laughed and ruffled Cireolas’ fluffy blond hair.

 

My little boy suggested that I buy myself and the warriors a candy floss each. He thought they would like to have one because, 'candy floss is so delicious'. His was nearly gone, so I was not surprised when he asked for another one. We walked back to the palace, eating our candy flosses, laughing and joking with Cireolas, who was enjoying being the centre of attention.

 

Since the Battle of the Idle Rich, I have enjoyed greater respect among the warriors here. Before, they were not so ready to engage with me. I was treated with courtesy, but none felt comfortable in making any but the most limited of conversations. Introducing material and practical support to help injured and disabled warriors and their families, made them warm to me, plus my fighting skills in the breakfast hall totally astonished them. They had seen me spar, but not since Cireolas was born. My old body was not as strong, and in idle rich circles it was joked that Círdan had married a human girl who looked like a male elf. I am told they even did impersonations of me. These things trickle down and never remain secret. It is hard for any newcomer to break down old warrior allegiances, but I managed to do that because of the battle, so the ice is now broken.

 

We arrived back and Círdan was sitting in his chair by the fire. By this time, Cireolas had fallen asleep so I put him in his baby bed. The twins were with Legolas; apparently, they were meeting Haldir and Orophin for the first time.

 

“Meleth,” I lifted Círdan's chin to look in his face. “I love you.” I kissed his lips and tried to slip my tongue into his mouth, but he stopped me.

 

“Meleth, find yourself someone younger. I love you too much to let you see me go downhill. I have been thinking about my lapse of memory. I am the oldest elf on Middle-earth and it seems I am not the elf I once was. I do not want to end up like those humans, who degenerates into a dribbling, childlike shadow of their former selves and cannot use any of what was previously in their mind. I am sure that you can find someone to love until we meet again.”

 

“No, meleth,” I said softly. “There will never be anyone but you.”

 

“The Valar can heal me and I will be waiting for you. There will never be anyone else for me.” His eyes looked into mine, as his hand gently stroked the side of my face.. “I will sail on the very next ship. It is the right thing to do.”

 

 

  


**Part 104 – Consequences**

  
 

 

_I am going to sail..._

 

“Don’t be silly,” I said to Círdan. “You are overreacting somewhat.”

 

“I do not wish to be a burden on you or the elflings as I become worse,” Círdan replied.

 

“You will not get worse,” I tried to reassure him, while panicking inside.

 

“My mind is made up. Nothing you can say will persuade me not to go,” he said, before telling me that Elrond wanted to see me in the healing rooms to look at my eye.

 

“How can I leave you when you are like this?” I cried. I knew that even if I did tell him the fire practice drill was a joke, he would not believe me. He would think that I was trying to reassure him so he would stay. “You have broken my heart. Why are we fated never to be together? Why do I have to lose you again?”

 

“I am so sorry,” Círdan said, he kissed the top of my head. I watched as he left the room.

 

I went to see Elrond. He asked why I looked upset, so I told him.

 

Elrond examined my eye. "It's not healing as fast as I thought it would." He sighed before lifting my eyelid up. Then he went to the counter and picked up a small glass, into which he poured some purple-grey liquid. “Drink this disgusting tasting medicine. It will speed the healing process.” He gave me an understanding smile, which really should have put me on my guard, because Elrond is never that kind to me. It was disgusting indeed and I fought to keep it down. “The trouble with trying to score points off one another is that one might forget when to stop.” Elrond's finger gently pressed the sensitive flesh around my eye. “This is healing nicely.”

 

“Well why did you give me that medicine if it is healing nicely?”

 

“Because I do not know when to stop either. “ Elrond looked like the cat who had licked the cream. “One practical joke deserves another, wouldn’t you say?”

 

I could do nothing but stare at him, while he continued. Did he not realise that I was facing a major crisis?

 

“I asked the fire drill elf to investigate. He told me that no servant could be found that would admit to taking any orders off Círdan about a practice fire drill, and that Queen Merilnis ordered it on your behalf because, apparently, your husband had told you there was to be one. I asked Merilnis about it. She howled with laughter whilst telling me that it was a brilliant joke. According to her, she thought of it and you ran with it. Poor Círdan thinks that he has an elderly, mind wasting condition because you did not know when to stop.” Elrond was not smiling anymore. “I have no doubt that it will be very hard to dissuade him from sailing, as his mind seems made up. It serves you right.”

 

“I doubt he would believe it was a joke; he seems pretty resigned. I pleaded with him and he ignored me.” I felt so downhearted. Elrond put on his caring face and told me that he wished he had not given me the medicine I had just taken. “Why?” I asked. “What is it going to do to me?”

 

“You did not just play a practical joke on Círdan, but on everyone in the castle, including me, so I thought that I would return the compliment, as it were. That medicine will give you diarrhoea for the next twenty four hours. The toilet is going to be your new best friend.” He gave me his very best sympathetic style smirk, waiting for my reaction.

 

“I don’t care,” I said, feeling dejected. “I don’t care about anything anymore.”

 

This had a better effect than shouting at Elrond and losing my temper. He looked concerned and tried to reassure me that he was sure Círdan could be persuaded not to sail. But I shrugged my shoulders and walked out of the healing block. I went back to my rooms, using the back stairs. Tears were forming in my eyes and did not want anyone to see.

 

I ran straight into the bedroom and lay on the bed. As I clung to the edge of the pillow, tears ran across my flushed cheek. I was inconsolable and my breath caught as I sobbed. A gentle hand stroked my shoulder. Círdan sat on the bed and pulled me up into a sitting position. He cradled me in his arms and asked me why I was so upset.

 

“Because you are leaving me,” I said amid the tears. “What can I say to make you stay?”

 

“It is for the best, meleth.” Círdan replied, wiping the tears from under my eyes.

 

“Then we will come with you. I am not giving you up that easily. I love you. I do not want to be without you. You are the most precious one in my life.”

 

“As you are in mine, melethen,” Círdan replied. “What did Elrond say to you?”

 

“He gave me a lecture on playing practical jokes and taking them too far,” I said before thinking, but then thought that nothing mattered anymore and so I did not care. “He apparently doesn’t know the meaning of restraint either. He gave me some medicine to speed the healing of my eye, and then told me that it will give me twenty-four hours of diarrhoea instead, because he was affected by the fire drill as well. I bet he does not dare do the same to Merilnis.”

 

“Why would he do anything to Merilnis?” Círdan asked as he held me tighter and kissed the top of my head.

 

My head lay on his chest and I had my arms around him, much like Cireolas when he is going to sleep or needs a cuddle. “Merilnis thought it all up and put it into action,” I replied.

 

“Yes, she told me immediately after I saw Elrond.” Círdan kissed my forehead. “You allowed me to go to Elrond and tell him about a memory lapse that I never had. Didn’t you?”

 

“I am sorry,” I said.

 

“You were prepared to let me worry that I might have something wrong with me because you did not want to admit to the joke. Why was that, meleth?” All the time Círdan gently stroked my hair.

 

I said nothing. I clung onto my husband and buried my face in his chest, breathing in his warm scent. The gentle fingers suddenly tugged at my hair and my head shot backwards, so that I was looking into his face.

 

“The fire drill was fine; it was a good joke. But, to let me think that I had a memory lapse and not stopping me from going to see Elrond about it was unacceptable. If you ever take a joke too far again, I will line you up against that window over there and kick your arse so hard you will end up in Valinor. Do I make myself clear?” Círdan’s face had gone bright red with anger.

 

“Yes, you make yourself clear,” I replied. He let go of my hair. “But I think we are even. You made me think you were going to sail. Never saying a word to ease my grief.”

 

“You deserved it,” Círdan replied. “At least I know you would miss me, and that you really do love and adore me.”

 

“You should never have been in doubt of that,” I snapped.

 

“What was I meant to think? I had to consider that my husband might have fallen out of love with me because he encouraged me to think that I was losing my mind. I would never do anything as bad to you.”

 

Oh Círdan you sanctimonious git!

 

“You, Elrond and Saelir thought it was the funniest thing ever that I was bitten by the snake and was in agony. You and Elrond made stupid remarks about me that you thought were oh so funny!” I freed myself from Círdan’s embrace. “My practical joke was nothing to the torment you put me through. I really did think you were going to sail. Even when I said that you had broken my heart, you carried it on.”

 

“Perhaps, like you, I did not know when to call a stop,” Círdan barked. “The only reason Elrond, Saelir and me laughed was because lately if anyone is going to get hurt it will be you.”

 

“It is not like I want to get hurt, is it?” I yelled. “You would think that I invited the snake to bite me.”

 

“I did not mean it like that and you know it,” Círdan bellowed back. “Why are you deliberately misunderstanding everything I say to you?”

 

“Why don’t you go stick your head up a pig’s arse?” I went to jump off the bed.

 

He grabbed hold of my waist with both arms and pulled me down onto the bed, laying his bulk on top of me. “Because a pig's arse does not compare to yours, that is why,” he breathed.

 

We lay staring at one another for a few moments, then Círdan kissed me hard. I could feel his arousal pressing on me through his clothing. “I am not leaving,” he smirked. “You have me forever.”  He grabbed one of my wrists, while restraining my other arm. I had not noticed the ties that he must have already set in place. I remember thinking just how devious he was. He tied my other wrist to the opposite bed post.

 

“You know that I could easily get out of this?” I smirked. Now that I have Oropher’s body I am strong enough to snap most leather ties.

 

“You won’t.” Círdan grinned. “We are going to put this behind us. We are going to love one another all afternoon. As I said before, I am not leaving. I might want to keep you here all week.” I allowed him to remove my leggings, and then he tied my ankles to the posts at the other end of the bed. He slit through my clothing with his dagger, which was a terrific turn on, before looking appreciatively at my rock-hard muscled body. “Beautiful,” he murmured before walking over to the cupboard. By straining my head, I could just about see him taking a gold inlaid, carved wooden box out of the bottom drawer. He brought it over to the bed. I grinned lasciviously at him.

 

“What have you got there, meleth?” I asked in my most seductive voice.

 

“I have commissioned some new toys for us.” Círdan pulled out a black strip of material and placed it over my eyes. “I want everything to be a surprise. That is not too tight, is it?”

 

“It is fine,” I replied, feeling very vulnerable, which is an incredible turn on for me. Happily, I trust Círdan implicitly.

 

“It is not hurting your eye, is it?”

 

“No, it is fine.”

 

“Are you looking forward to our afternoon of fun, meleth?” His voice teased.

 

“Very much so.” I had the widest of grins on my face.

 

“Excellent.” Círdan kissed me lightly on the lips, as he trailed his fingers over my hardness. Cupping his hand under my balls, he rolled them gently. “I am so looking forward to making love to you, meleth.”

 

I arched my back to increase the pressure of the maddeningly gentle strokes. “Meleth,” I breathed. “Do more...”

 

“Well I will, when our guests arrive. They should be here any minute.”

 

“WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!”

 

 

 

**Part 105 – Erestor’s, ‘Two-hundred kinky ways to please your lover’ book.**

 

 

“No Círdan,” I wriggled and tried to snap the bindings on my wrists and ankles. “Please do not invite anyone in here, when I am like this.”

 

“The leather ties are reinforced with steel thread, meleth.” Círdan laughed. “If you keep wriggling you will only hurt yourself.”

 

I felt desperate and horribly embarrassed. Círdan had tied my wrists and ankles to the bed and blindfolded me, before telling me that there would be guests in our afternoon of sex. My hardness had shrunk to the size of a tiny worm, and I was horrified that others would see my body without my consent. I am still shy of the very visible birth scar on my belly and I have small swellings on my chest where the babies feed.

 

“Please do not let anyone see me like this. At least untie me.” I begged.

 

“Relax meleth,” Círdan laughed. “I would never let anyone see your body unless you agreed. I was merely playing a joke on you.”

 

“You go too far,” I shouted in anger. “Release me now! I do not trust you anymore.”

 

“No,” Círdan replied. “I am not releasing you. There is going to be no one but you and me this afternoon, and I am going to make love to you.”

 

“You had better release me,” I shouted, highly annoyed.

 

“Say the safe word.”

 

“What bloody safe word?” I yelled. “We don’t have a safe word.”

 

“Tut tut! What a shame.” I could almost hear Círdan smirking. “Can’t release you then.”

 

It was then that I felt the most delicious warmth on my smallness. Círdan sucked me so thoroughly that I relaxed, going huge and hard almost in an instant. “Should I stop?”

 

"No," I replied blissfully. He put his hands over my hips to stop me from thrusting up into his mouth. The tension built up inside and my breathing became rapid. Softly, I cried out as I spilled into my loved one’s mouth. I heard him swallow, and I smiled. “I wish I could see your face.”

 

Círdan peeled the blindfold back and grinned at me before putting it back in place. He kissed me and I could taste myself upon him. Hands stroked along the contours and surfaces of my body as I groaned with delight. I almost did not feel the cock ring close around my hardness, or the ring around my balls. He has done this to me before, so I was not alarmed.  Both of my wrists were released, and before I could pull away the blindfold Círdan snapped two metal rings around them.

 

“Meleth,” Círdan said in his husky voice. “Would you like to know what I am doing?”

 

I nodded that I would.

 

“I have handcuffed your wrists together and now I am going fasten you to the bed with a strong metal chain to stop you escaping, and then I am going to do the same to your ankles so that you will be on your side and completely at my mercy.” Círdan kissed a line from my shoulders, up to my neck and then my lips, before doing continuing in our play.

 

“Sounds good to me,” I replied. We have done this before, so it was nothing new. Círdan likes to feel as though he is directing everything; extremely old elves are like that.

 

I lay on my side and waited to see what he would do next. I expected it to involve my bottom in some way. Something pushed inside me and there was a sudden warmth.

 

“What is that?” It was a feeling that was new to me, reminding me of the time when Ereinion had me across the table in the wine cellar when I was Oropher, and in his drunkenness he put a wine bottle up my arse and tipped it up. I had done the same to him a few months before. I really hope that Ereodan does not remember all the details of his former life, or else I will die of embarrassment.

 

Círdan snickered, and I asked him again to tell me what he was doing. “I am filling you with oil, meleth.”

 

“Why?” It was an extremely strange thing to do.

 

“I found it in the ‘Two-hundred kinky ways to please your lover’ book. I bought it at the market the last time we went.”

 

“I did not know you bought a book.”

 

My wonderful husband tittered. “It is a reprint from a second age book. Guess who wrote it?”

 

“No idea."

 

“Go on. Guess who it was. You know them very well.”

 

“Ereinion?”

 

“No.”

 

“One of my mad parents?”

 

“No.”

 

“Thranduil?”

 

“No.”

 

Elrond?”

 

“Do you give in?” Círdan's hand massaged my lower belly.

 

“This feels strange. When is it going to stop?”

 

“Nearly done. Do you want to know who wrote the book?”

 

“Well, yes. Of course I do.” I did want to know, because I wondered just who would think that pouring a bucketload of oil up someone’s arse was a sexy thing to do.

 

“Erestor,” Círdan could hardly contain himself. “It was written by Lord Erestor, Consort of High-King Ereinion Gil-Galad, for his personal use only. Apparently it was found in the ruins of Lindon, and the Stiffy Toy Company decided to publish it in their adult book section. That’s what it says on the cover.”

 

“No!” I was shocked. “Erestor will sue their arses off. Hold on, you mean my ada does stuff like this? Ewwww.”

 

“I have no idea, meleth, but apparently it is a best seller. I wonder if Erestor has seen it yet?” Círdan said in his, ‘I cannot wait to cause trouble’ voice.

 

I started to giggle uncontrollably and so did Círdan. We literally screeched with laughter. “He is going to be so angry,” I howled. “I cannot wait to see his face when we show him the copy.”

 

“We will buy another one. I can see him shredding this one to bits. There are some promising things in here.” I heard Círdan put the book down. He pulled out whatever it was in my bottom and replaced it with his hardness.

 

“This feels so unusual,” Círdan said as he thrust in and out.

 

“You’re telling me.” My full belly wobbled with every movement.

 

“You are so slippery and warm.” Círdan moaned, and then he stopped.

 

“Don’t stop,” I said, and felt a slap on my bottom.

 

“Be quiet, I am the master here,” Círdan said in his stern voice. I howled with derisive laughter, which earned me another slap.

 

My husband’s arms tightened around me and I felt him biting the back of my neck as he thrust in and out. “Meleth, I need to touch you.”

 

“Patience,” he said softly and resumed biting my neck.

 

My whole body was unable to move much, and all I could do was accept the attentions of my husband behind me. Waves of pleasure spread through my belly and across my whole body. Círdan moved one of his hands down and pressed the skin behind my balls, which were still restrained by the ring, along with my cock. I felt as though they would explode. The waves of pleasure intensified as Círdan pressed upwards. He continued thrusting and my orgasm was building up inside me, with nowhere to go.

 

“Meleth,” I cried as he released the rings and took hold of my hardness. His hand moved swiftly up and down, and my release hit me. He came moments after, and I felt our bond strengthen as we became as one for a split moment.

 

“Meleth, I love you so much,” Círdan panted. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” I felt him put a plug in my arse and then he took the blindfold from my eyes. I watched the restraints on my wrists and ankles being released.

 

I lay on my back smiling lazily at him. He was already hard again, which is something humans are incapable of doing, according to Erestor's book. “Want to go again,” I grinned and drew my legs up for him.

 

It was a great afternoon, especially as Círdan let me do the same to him, following the directions in Erestor’s book, of course. I am wondering who posed for the woodcut illustrations. On close examination it looks like Ereinion and me. I am sure it cannot be. I am obviously being paranoid, but the old Erestor would have done such a thing.

 

We lay in bed afterwards, totally spent. Our bed was soaked in oil, but Círdan had the foresight to put a covering of hide between the sheets and the mattress before I came back to the room after visiting Elrond. I think he must have been planning this for a long time. We have agreed not to play anymore jokes and treat one another better. How I love my husband. He is the most wonderful elf in Middle-earth, except when he is being a git.

 

I lay in bed drifting off to sleep for a couple of hours before dinner. Círdan and I had our arms around each other. Various thoughts flitted across my mind. What would the laundry elves think about the excessive amount of oil on the sheets? Why didn’t the medicine that Elrond gave me cause the diarrhoea he said it would; was it a joke as well?

 

Finally one huge thought pushed for dominance: Did Erestor fill Legolas with oil too?

 

It doesn’t bear thinking about.

**Part 106 – Me and My Filthy Mind!**

 

 

“WHAT?” Erestor boomed angrily, when we showed him the Lindon sex manual that he had written. “Who dares to publish this?” I could not believe that the most accomplished spy in Middle-earth had no idea about the book. We had gone to the market and bought the last copy of the book, so that we could show it to him. Our copy was in the safe.

 

“Never mind,” Legolas said as he lazily passed an arm around Ada’s waist. “Everyone will know you for the stunning and imaginative lover you are.”

 

At that point, the memory of the pint of oil up the arse came into sharp focus and I imagined Erestor doing that to Legolas. I really wish I did not have such a filthy mind, sometimes it is so distracting.

 

“Everyone will know what we get up to, meleth,” Erestor said, smiling in spite of himself because Legolas blew on his ear lobe. He has no shame!

 

Legolas took the book from him and idly flicked through it. “Nothing new here.” He gave it back to Erestor, as if bored. “I should imagine that most elves have done this stuff. You and Ereinion were not the most adventurous of elves, were you?”

 

_Pint of oil_ , my mind screamed as I looked at my Adas in shock. I had read the book, cover to cover, and there was plenty that I had never done, in this life or my former one.

 

“Are you implying that I was an unexciting lover?” Erestor asked Legolas.

 

“You have it better with me, than with anyone you have ever had,” Legolas replied, his voice soft and seductive. Erestor stood with his mouth open, staring at him. “You know it.” He pulled Ada towards him and kissed him lightly on the lips. “You know it well.” He gave Erestor his, ‘come to bed with me now’ look, before swiftly licking his top lip.

 

Círdan and I looked at one another. “We had better be getting back,” I said, taking my husband’s hand. Really, my parents are most embarrassing.

 

They did not hear me. When I looked back to say good bye, Erestor had already cleared the table with one sweep of his arm and had laid Legolas over it. He kissed and touched Legolas, as if in a frenzy of desire. I was at once horribly turned on and felt a bit tacky. My parents should have known better and not let their animal passions run away with them when I was in the room. They are my adas, after all.

 

We went off to see how Orophin was doing with the babies. He had two helpers with him, who were trained in the School for Recalcitrant Elflings, and they seemed to be doing quite well. Haldir stood talking to Geli about the silliness of demanding that Orophin swear an oath of fealty to her.

 

“Us former high-kings do not feel safe unless elves swear an oath of fealty to us. Isn't that right, Ereodan?” she looked at her little brother for support.

 

“No, we don’t,” Ereodan agreed, and chuckled as the helper shook a ball that had a little bell in it.

 

Haldir smiled at me and handed Geli to Orophin. “They are a handful. Trust you to have two former high-kings as elflings. Poor Cireolas, they will have him backed into a corner with logic before he knows it.” He turned his attention to Geli. “It would be wise not to tell anyone that you were Fëanor in your former life. There are many elves from that time who have vowed to kill him if he is ever reborn.”

 

“I will make them swear an oath not to.” My cheeky iell giggled.

 

Cireolas whispered to me that he thought that his twin siblings were extremely naughty.

 

“So are you.”

 

“I never naughty; Unca Mel says so.” Cireolas giggled because he knew that he was not exactly telling the truth.

 

We had a lovely cuddle. Eventually, Cireolas fell quiet against my chest.  Círdan held Jeli and Ereodan, explaining to them why elves now shied away from swearing oaths anymore, mainly because of the damage Fëanor’s one had done.

 

“I am not interested,” Geli told him. “They swear an oath or they do not look after me. It is as simple as that.” She waggled her finger at my husband, who looked unimpressed.

 

“Geli,” I said sternly. “I hope you are being good.”

 

“Yes Ada,” she said earnestly. “I am being very good.”

 

“It does not sound as though you are being good.”

 

“Well I assure you that I am,” she replied in her cheeky voice. “If you overhear things, then you will often get the wrong end of the stick. No one likes an eavesdropper.”

 

I had never heard her be this rude. “Geli,” Círdan snapped angrily. “You will apologise immediately.”

 

“I cannot apologise because I would not mean it.” Geli sucked her thumb furiously; she was looking a little bit upset and I thought she might burst into tears at any moment.

 

“I think you need to go back to bed until you can learn not to be rude.” I placed her in the crib and she started to cry.

 

Ereodan looked at Círdan. “I wasn’t being rude,” he said. “I was being good.”

 

I picked Geli up and plugged her on to my nipple. “Feed.” She kept sniffing, as if she was still crying, but eventually she suckled and fell asleep. I did the same with Ereodan and he went to sleep also.

 

“They were tired,” I said to my angry husband, who said that he would make it illegal to swear oaths to his twin elflings.

 

We left Orophin and the helpers. Haldir accompanied us to our rooms, to supposedly discuss the oath situation. We went into the apartment, sat in the family room and put our feet up on the chairs. Círdan opened a bottle of wine. Outside, through the open windows, we could hear the screeching of the gulls and the lazy lapping of the ebbing tide. We finished the wine and opened another bottle. It was a warm day and we felt relaxed. I could see through a gap in Haldir’s undershirt; his pink nipple was erect. I wanted to suck it.

 

_“Let us take Haldir to bed, meleth,”_ Círdan said through our connection.

 

Haldir had a small dribble of wine at the side of his lips, from where he had sipped from the glass. He went to wipe it away, but I caught his arm. “Allow me,” Círdan said, and kissed away the wine.

 

Haldir groaned.

 

“Come to our bed,” I said, giving him the most lascivious smile.

 

Círdan kissed Haldir’s neck and told him that he desired his fit, hard-muscled body. I leaned forward and kissed the pink lips that offered no resistance.

 

"Lead the way," Haldir said, holding out his hand. “I have wanted this for a long time.”

 

 

 


	37. Part 107 – Our Threesome, (Lucky This Journal is Private!), Part 108 – The Perils of Boredom.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Haldir, Círdan and Ereolas have a threesome. Ereolas reminisces about the time he became bored in the coach with Alatáriël.

**Title: Ereolas: Oropher Unbound! - Part 107 – Our Threesome, (Lucky This Journal is Private!)**

 

 

 

I sat on the bed with my back against the headboard. Haldir sat in between my legs with his back against my chest. My hand slipped under the heavy fall of silken blond hair and lightly stroked the back of his neck. He smiled and shut his eyes, only to open them again when Círdan's dagger sliced through the leather ties of his leggings.

 

A sharp intake of breath. I imagined Haldir's eyes glittering with excitement. I grabbed a fistful of his hair and brought his face around so that I could kiss his lips. Círdan asked Haldir if he minded him ripping the shirt from his body. He replied that he could do anything he liked. My powerful, sexy husband tore his shirt down the centre, and then worked his way down the bed to pull the boots and leggings from our new lover’s lower half.

 

Haldir was completely nude. I wriggled out of my clothing quickly before Círdan the knife could see slit it. He has destroyed so many pieces of my clothing lately that I had to ask him to stop, even though it turns me on like crazy. I lay on the bed behind Haldir, with my arms around him, my hardness wedged between our backs. My fingertips lightly skimmed his sides and he shuddered deliciously.

 

Círdan removed his clothing, slowly letting it fall to the floor. He really is the sexiest elf alive; his body is perfection. I have never seen one so sculpted or so beautiful. Perhaps it is because he is my soul mate that I think this; however, Haldir could not tear his eyes away from my only one’s form either.

 

“Come,” Círdan said to Haldir and held out his arms.

 

Haldir crawled forward and my husband took him in his arms and kissed him. I took the oil from the bedside table and coated one of my fingers. Inside, Haldir was moist and warm. He hissed as my finger pushed in.  I moved it around to try and loosen him; he was very tight and I wondered if he had ever bottomed before. Oh well! He would soon, and so my wondering was academic at best. The next finger went in. Haldir hissed as his ring contracted.

 

“We have all the time you need,” Círdan said softly.

 

“I have never been on the receiving end before.”

 

“What? Never?” Círdan was astonished, as was I. Haldir shook his head.

 

“You will love it,” I said confidently, simply because I knew he would. “We will go very slowly and gently, as this is your first time.”

 

“I am a bit nervous,” Haldir admitted. “Not enough to stop though.”

 

“You need to relax.” Círdan kissed him lightly on the lips. “I can feel you tensing.”

 

“So can I,” I said, holding my fingers still. “Haldir, make sure you don’t fart. My face is very near your arse.” He burst into fits of laughter and I slid my fingers in a little bit more.

 

“Lay back,” Círdan said to Haldir. I removed my fingers and wiped them on a cloth. Our new lover lay back on the bed, looking quite nervous. However, I suppose that is to be expected considering what we were about to do. Círdan took his hardness in his mouth. As his head bobbed up and down I selected a graduated phallus from our box of toys and oiled it. I told Haldir to draw up his leg, then pushed it in as far as I could. With every groan of delight from Haldir, caused by the ministrations of my wonderful husband, I was able to push it in a little more, until he was fully open.

 

Círdan’s heavy arousal was bobbing freely just above the bedcovers, as he moved up and down over Haldir’s cock. I moved to between his legs and took him in my mouth. He groaned, stopping for a few moments before carrying on. Haldir was becoming louder as his orgasm built up inside him. He caught hold of Círdan’s hair in his release and cried out for all he was worth. The normally quiet and taciturn Marchwarden was a shouter! Who would have thought?

 

Now that Círdan could concentrate on what I was doing he started thrusting into my mouth. He held the back of my head between his hands and pushed in and out. I am always nervous when he does that, just in case he pushes too far and too hard, but as yet he has not done so. It only takes him to be angry and slip, and I would be explaining my latest accident to the healers. Those healers, at the moment, would be the laugh-a-minute duo Saelir, and Elrond. I still haven't forgiven Elrond for pretending that a medicine would give me diarrhoea after I had taken it thinking it was for something else. That is did not was beside the point. I do not fancy ever going near those two again, unless I really have to. My train of thought was disrupted as Haldir closed his mouth over my arousal. I was lost in my own pool of bliss.

 

Círdan came shortly after. Happily he told me that he would, or else I think I would have choked to death. He rammed in hard, coming with such intensity that I thought he would never stop. All the while, the delicious wetness of Haldir’s hot mouth continued to engulf me. His technique was slightly different to that of Círdan’s and I came hard, really hard. My husband planted his lips over mine and pushed his tongue inside my mouth, so that all I could do was make some muffled noises as I enjoyed my release.

 

I rose up and took Haldir in my arms. We kissed as Círdan took out the phallus. He slapped a handful of oil over his cock and slowly pushed in, while holding Haldir's hips steady. I kissed our new lover to take his mind off what was happening, and stroked his body with the flat of my hand and fingertips. He stroked my body and touched places that had me begging for more.

 

“Turn around,” Haldir said as Círdan passed him the oil. He did not go gently. He impaled me quickly with one smooth glide and in tandem with Círdan he pushed in and out of me.

 

Strong arms closed around me as I placed my hands on the headboard to steady myself. It was never going to last long; we were too excited for that to happen. Círdan came first. Panting hard, he sighed at how tight Haldir was.

 

“I know,” Haldir replied, as he pushed in and out of me. “Fuck knows how I’m going to sit down tomorrow.”

 

That tickled me and I started laughing. Haldir slapped my arse and told me to be quiet. He said I was putting him off. Then he then squeezed one of my nipples and a small amount of baby milk flowed over his fingers. I heard him licking them clean. I couldn’t stop giggling, so Círdan came around to my front and took my head in his hands. “This will make you stop.” He kissed me so hard that I could not say a word.

 

Haldir pounded into me for all he was worth. Before long I felt the sudden rush of warmth as he came. Out of breath, we lay down for a while until I thought about how delicious it would be to have Haldir as well.

 

“Lay on your front,” I ordered. “I must have you.”

 

Haldir lay on his front, although he did not look too enthusiastic. I poured a lot of oil around his entrance and inside him. For a brief moment I thought of Erestor’s book and the pint of oil. I swear that has damaged me for life. More oil coated my hardness and I pushed in. Círdan lay on his side, stroking Haldir’s glistening skin and occasionally kissing him on the lips. It was hard to push in as his entrance was quite unwilling.

 

“Relax,” I said softly, kissing the back of Haldir’s neck.

 

“I am trying.” He sounded as though he was not looking forward to another round.

 

“We can stop if you want,” I offered, hoping he would refuse. Círdan would rib me for weeks to come if he was the only one to have felt the internal delights of Haldir's arse.

 

Happily, Haldir refused, so I waited for him to relax before doing any more. I withdrew and told him to lay on his side, then I pushed in again. Círdan trailed a line of kisses down Haldir’s neck and then he sucked one of his nipples, causing him to hiss and temporarily forget my presence. “You bit me,” Haldir whined to Círdan, as if he had been terribly wounded.

 

“Oops. Sorry.” Círdan grinned and continued in his downward journey. Inevitably it ended with Haldir’s cock in his mouth. I felt my husband’s hand move around and stroke my bum cheek, and then his fingertips stroked in between the cleft. “I love you,” he said through our connection. I blew him a kiss. He fixed his hand firmly on my behind and pulled me closer, which made me push harder into Haldir. Then he released me, so I could draw back, then pulled me in his direction again.

 

We managed to get a rhythm going. I reached around and cradled Haldir’s balls in my hand. He panted and groaned with each push. In the end, he could not resist the delights of me inside him, nor the sweetness of my husband’s mouth. He came hard, yelling obscenities as loudly as he could.

 

“I haven’t finished yet,” I croaked; my mouth was quite dry by then. I pushed some more and my release came soon after. My damp hair slapped against Haldir’s skin as I leant on his back to catch my breath. Círdan lay, like a lazy cat and grinned.

 

I kissed Círdan and lay down beside him. Haldir lay with his head on my hip, and my fingers lazily threaded through his hair.

 

“I haven’t had you, Círdan,” Haldir said, his voice low and languid in its delivery.

 

“Lay on your front,” Círdan motioned to me. I flipped over and he parted my legs. I felt his tongue pushing into me. My smile widened; I knew that feeling well. The trickles of warm oil run down the cleft to my entrance. Círdan spilled more on my cheeks and massaged it in. “I like to feel the slap of skin when I am pushing in,” he explained to Haldir. Then he stroked my shoulder and said that I liked it too. The truth is that I like absolutely anything that my husband does to me, but I think I will give the pint of oil a miss next time. Ewww! I cannot stop thinking about that oil.

 

I felt Círdan’s considerable hardness enter me; he is slightly fuller than Haldir. It was like saying hello to an old friend. He told Haldir to oil himself and push into him. Then he took hold of my shoulders, pulled out slightly, then rammed in hard, giving me no mercy. In the end, I was panting for breath and holding on for dear life to the end of the bed. I believe that Haldir pounded Círdan’s arse just as hard. My cock was taken in Círdan's hand and I nearly died from the orgasm he wrung out of me. I thought that I would explode as it shocked through my body. No one can do it as well as my love.

 

That was it. We were spent. I pulled the covers over us and we fell asleep. It was a couple of hours later when we stirred. Círdan ran a bath in our several elf sized pool and we all bathed.

 

“I am still shagged out,” Haldir said and looked at us with a sated smile. “It was a most wonderful afternoon.”

 

I smiled and so did Círdan. We had been communicating through our connection about our next move.

 

Círdan smiled. “It is nearly dinner time. Would you like to come back to our rooms afterwards and perhaps stay the night?”

 

Sqeeee! He said YES!!!!!

 

 

 

 

**Part 108 – The Perils of Boredom.**

 

 

The twins were born two months early. Elrond advised Círdan and me that they were too small and frail to present to the Valar. He has decided that they are big enough to be presented now, and so we will be doing the ceremony tonight. I hope that Geli behaves herself; I have noticed that her little brother, Ereodan, often eggs her on, and yet he appears to say not much at all. What a smart little elfling he is.

 

Meanwhile, I have the whole day to waste. Círdan is with the court artist, because he wants him to paint a commemorative scene of the twins rising up into the air. Mel and Fin arrived back from mountain climbing, with Elladan and Elrohir, in the early hours of the morning, and they all went straight to bed. My adas have not surfaced from their bedroom since being given Erestor’s Second Age sex manual. Merilnis is off to the market with Elrond and Celebrían. She has taken Cireolas and a warrior guard with her, and she is going to buy him some chocolate buttons. Chocolate is very rare, so I expect they will cost her an arm and a leg. The twins are being spoken to at length, by Orophin and his helpers, about how they are to comport themselves tonight. Thus, the only elf I can spend some time with is my ion Thranduil. I would have spent some time with Haldir but he has gone on a mini-cruise with a bunch of Círdan’s sailors. I wonder if we will have to carry him off the ship. I do hope so!

 

I sat with Thranduil under a large chestnut tree. We were telling each other some really filthy jokes and screeching with laughter, when we heard a coach and horses in the distance.

 

“I wonder who that is?” my ever nosy ion said, the points on his ears pricking up.

 

No idea,” I replied. “Furthermore, it is too warm out here for me to care.” I smiled and threw a red and blue striped beetle at him. Thranduil caught it and placed it upon the ground.

 

“Nana told me that she hated travelling alone in a coach with you. Why was that?”

 

“Your Nana hated a lot of things,” I replied, smiling in remembrance.

 

~~~o0o~~~

 

Well before Thranduil was born, Alatáriël and I were travelling back from her parent’s princedom after spending three weeks too long there. I liked her nana very much, but her ada was the most repulsive elf I had ever met. He offended every single one of my sensibilities. I wondered how his own subjects did not assassinate him for being so revolting. It was against Gil-Galad’s law that any royal be assassinated by, or on the orders of another royal, so I did not try to kill him myself. It is ironic and just, that Coamenel was killed by Ereinion, many years later, because he was so repulsed by his perverted nastiness. He chopped his head off with a single blow of his sword. Ereinion later told me that the head had bounced a couple of times when it hit the floor.

 

I digress. We were sitting in the coach, returning home, and I was bored witless. My wife was looking through the window, hoping to spot some wildlife. “My Lord," she said prettily. "Look at that dead hedgehog. It looks as if a cart has run over it.”

 

“You would think that they would get out of the way, wouldn’t you?” I said with no small amount of sarcasm. “It amazes me that there isn’t a designated crossing point for our little spiky friends.”

 

“What a good idea,” Alatáriël clapped her hands and laughed. “You are so clever sometimes.”

 

“Yes,” I replied with a perfectly straight expression. “Once they learn to read then I expect hundreds of hedgehogs lives will be saved.”

 

“I hadn’t thought of that.” Her face fell.

 

“I am incredibly bored. Why don’t you think of some conversation that might amuse me?” Círdan would slap my arse if I spoke to him like that!

 

“How about I show you the magic trick that Lady Andúnë showed me yesterday?”

  

“Oh, go on then.” I doubted it would be any good.

  

“Look,” she said happily as she unlaced one of her boots. “I am going to knot this lace and undo it with one sharp tug.” She did so and I managed to look mildly interested. “Now see if you can do it.”

 

 I took the lace and knotted it as she showed me. One sharp tug and it remained a knot. “Should I unravel it with my dagger, my Lady?”

 

“It is a trick,” she replied gleefully, before showing me the bit of the knot making process she had hidden from me. “It could never have worked because you did not have the full knowledge of what I was doing.” She grinned at me, as if I was a simpleton.

  

I took the lace and smiled. “Allow me to lace your boot back up.” I dropped down to my knees on the carriage floor before pulling her long dress up to her knees. Then I fastened the black leather lace to her tiny ankle boot.

 

“Thank you,” Alatáriël said. I did not move.  “Why are you still kneeling on the floor? Get up. You are in the way and I need to push my dress down.”

 

 I pushed her dress up further and caressed her thighs with the flat of my hands. “Open,” I commanded her.

  

“Not here,” she squeaked, her eyes wide with panic. “Supposing the footman looks through the hatch?”

 

“Then he will see me making love to my wife and will respect our privacy.” My hands moved further upward.

  

“But the road is so bumpy,” she pleaded, as if that was any excuse at all.

  

I did not answer her as I pulled her legs apart. My finger found her rosebud and rubbed in a circular direction. "I could just as easily caress with my tongue?"

  

“Valar,” she yelped. “I hope no one sees us. I shall be so embarrassed.”

  

“Look there is a hedgehog spying on us.” I quickly pointed to the window.

  

“Where?” she cried, her head spinning round to look outside. “Oh you.” She swatted me over the head lightly with her fan. “You are so naughty.”

  

“Damn right I am,” I replied, pulling her toward me. My head dipped down, so my tongue could caress her source of pleasure.

  

It was not long before she started to breathe faster and her rosebud started to twitch. “Oropher,” she screeched, with her hand over her mouth as her orgasm came. My fingers felt underneath to her wetness before hastily undoing the ties to my leggings. Her eyes opened wide, “Haven’t you had enough?”

  

“Sweet one, I have had nothing yet; the pleasure has been all yours.” I lined my hardness up against her warmth and pushed in.

  

“What will the footmen think? They will hear everything.”

  

“I care not what they think,” I said as I thrust gently. “You are my wife. If I feel like making love to you, I will.”

  

“They will hear us and tell everyone that we have sex in coaches,” Alatáriël hissed urgently. I pushed her back gently so that I could reach the front hatch. “What are you doing?” she squeaked, her face hot and flushed with embarrassment as I knocked on the wooden panel. 

 

The hatch opened and the driver indicated that he could hear me, even though he did not turn around. “I am having sex with my wife. I do not want you or the footman to repeat what you may hear, upon pain of death.”

  

“Yes, your Majesty,” the driver called out before closing the hatch door. I wouldn’t really kill him; good drivers are hard to get, but the threat should impress Alatáriël no end.

  

“I cannot believe you did that,” Alatáriël hissed angrily. “How dare you show me up like that.” 

 

“I dare because I am the king and your husband,” I thrust in again as I said it. “Beats hedgehog watching, doesn’t it?” I had visions of the footmen on the back of the carriage pressing their ears to the wood, listening to our conversation.

  

“No not really,” my spirited little filly spat back. “Hedgehog watching is supremely exciting compared to your lovemaking skills.” 

 

Now she was entering into the spirit of things. “Right,” I said, and smirking at her. I thrust harder into her wetness; her body betraying her excitement.

  

“You kiss like a troll,” she spat, a saucy grin on her face. “You smell like one too.”

  

“That is because I accidently used your perfume this morning. 'Eau du scrotum de cheval', I believe it was called.” I used the local dialect where she lived, and which she often spoke in my presence when in her parent's court, assuming massively that I could not speak a word of it. “Alatáriël, touchez-moi, la chienne.”  

 

She slapped my face and I stopped.  “How dare you call me a dog!”.

  

“It was the nearest I could get in the dialect to bitch.” I laughed and thrust in again.

  

“Just how much did you understand of what I was saying?” she panted, her excitement getting the better of her as she held onto my shoulders.

  

“Every bit of it,” I answered. I speeded up and came; the thought that we could be heard added to the intensity of it. I slumped against the crook of her neck. She had not come, so like a good husband I placed my fingers over her rosebud and rubbed it until she did. How lovely she looked in her passion, even though she clamped her hand over her mouth to stop herself being heard. I kissed her and pulled her dress back down. The naughty little minx was not wearing any under garments to cover her modesty, so I assume she must have known that I would want to make love to her.

 

 

I laced up my leggings and pulled her to sit on my lap. She looked quite nervous. “I heard you telling Lord Tathar that I am rude, demanding and selfish.” My hand gently stroked the crook of her neck before drifting down to her breasts. “You told Lady Silmarwen that I was a tasteless halfwit and boorish.” I took hold of her chin and looked her straight in the eye. “You might think this of me, my Lady, but know that I am of a singular mind to punish you hard if I ever hear you criticise me or publically make fun of me again. I have never spoken ill of you to anyone, even though there would be plenty to say.” 

 

She breathed an almost inaudible sigh of relief. “I did not know you could speak our dialect.”

  

“Obviously not,” I replied. My tone softened. “Alatáriël, I know that we are not in love and this was a political match, but we can at least make life pleasant for one another. Do you think you can do that?” I felt a crocodile tear splash onto my jacket. “Sweet one, we are both in the same boat and stuck with it, so we might as well make the best of what we have.” I offered her my handkerchief.

  

“I hate travelling with you,” Alatáriël's voice was so low I could hardly hear her. “We always argue.”

  

“We always end up having sex too,” I pointed out to her. “Let us not argue.” I pulled her close. “We should guard each other’s happiness. No one else will do it for us.”

  

“I do not always understand your sense of humour. Most of it seems to be at my expense.”

  

“That is because it is, sweet one.” I laughed as she hit me hard over the head with her fan. I caught hold of her hand and pulled her close. “Kiss me, pretty one.” I softly kissed her lower lip and felt her body relax into me.

 

We stopped shortly after to stretch our legs. At her request, when we continued the journey, I rode outside with the warrior guard because she wanted to sleep without me disturbing her.

 

~~~o0o~~~

 

“Your mother hated travelling with me, because she thought that I bored easily and needed constant distraction. Apparently, I wore her out on many occasions.” I grinned and Thranduil tittered. 

 

“I heard that you used to make her have sex to pass the time."

  

“Really?” I said as if mildly amazed. “People get such funny ideas.” 

 

“You, boy,” boomed familiar female voice. “Where is my ion-in-law? Go find him at once.” 

 

“Ow!” We heard a young male yelp. No doubt Queen Nenuial had whacked the servant with her stick. 

 

Thranduil stood up and waved to his Grand Nana. “We are over here,” he called. “She has Nuinzillien with her."

  

I stood up to greet my Nana-in-law. “Welcome, dear one,” I kissed both of her cheeks.

  

“Not staying long,” she said loudly. “We have come to watch the twins being presented. Then we are off to visit Celeborn. He needs some help with selecting an outfit for his wedding.”

  

“You are just in time.” I took her arm, after greeting her lover Nuinzillien in the same fashion. “Shall we go for mid-morning tea and cakes?”

  

Thranduil took Nuinzillien's arm and led the way.

 


	38. Part 109 – Presenting the Twins to the Valar. Part 110 – Cireolas’ Painting. Part 111 – Picnic on the Beach.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ereolas and Círdan present the twins to the Valar. Cireolas paints his name and gives it to Círdan. Círdan and Ereolas go for a late night walk.

  
**Part 109 – Presenting the Twins to the Valar.**

 

 

 

The night was cloudless and the stars shone much brighter than they normally did. It was the welcome of the Valar in anticipation of the two little babies being presented to them.

 

We stood in a semi-circle by the waterfall, overlooking the sea in our private garden. Thranduil and Merilnis stood with Elrond and Celebrían. I stood opposite them with Círdan, and my adas, who held onto Cireolas. Queen Nenuial, Mel, Glorfindel, Elladan and Elrohir stood in-between.  Círdan and I walked into the centre of the ring and held our nude babies high up above our heads.

 

“Lord Manwë, Lady Elbereth, and all the Valar,” Círdan said in a clear, loud voice. “I present to you our babies: Ereodan and Geli, to bless and make your own.”

 

Ereodan and Geli rose up into the air. We could hear them laughing, as Cireolas did when he was presented as a baby. We all looked up, smiling as we saw Elbereth holding their tiny forms in her hand. All the time we could hear a merry stream of giggles and rolling laughter. They were wished all the gifts that the Valar bless upon those who will lead, such as strength, wisdom, leadership, courage, bravery, beauty, among others; however, that is not the reason why the occasion will remain so firmly in my memory.

 

While my babies laughed and frolicked with the Valar, Nienna appeared next to Círdan and me. “You both know that Geli was once Fëanor,” she said to us. We nodded that we did. “Your daughter will not be with you forever. One day we will take her back.”

 

“What do you mean?” Círdan asked, fearing the worst.

 

“Geli will one day have to make the choice of who she wants to be. She can decide to return to her old identity of Fëanor, or stay as Geli, your daughter. To do that her fëa must be completely removed from her body. I am so sorry,” Nienna looked as if she was already grieving.

 

“She will die?” Tears were already falling down my face. Círdan and I held onto one another for dear life. Our daughter had captured our hearts, and already we could not imagine life without her.

 

“I will not allow it to happen,” Círdan said angrily. “You cannot play around with our lives like this. We have had enough of your interventions.”

 

“It is not my decision. Eru’s song has foretold it.”

 

“But she is our child,” I pleaded. “How can you be so cruel?”

 

“If she stays as Geli, does that mean she will come straight back to us?” Círdan looked crushed, as if his heart had been ripped to pieces.

 

“You will see her in Valinor, if that is the case,” Nienna replied. “She will die in Middle-earth to enable her fëa to leave and make the decision of who she wants to be.” Nienna looked at both of us and it was clear to see that she also felt grief, not just for Geli but also for us. “I do not know when it will happen, but please make her life a happy one so that she will choose to be with you forever.”

 

“Please do not hurt her.” I tried to see Nienna’s reaction through my tears. Círdan was speechless; he could say nothing.

 

“I promise you that,” Nienna said before rising upwards to meet our elflings.

 

“What has happened?” Erestor had seen our distress. I told him what Nienna had said. “She could live another thousand years before it happens,” he reasoned.

 

“Or it could be sooner than later,” Círdan said as he wiped his eyes. “We just do not know.”

 

“I cannot think that the Valar would give you hardly any time with her, if they want you to make her so happy that she chooses to stay with you,” Legolas said while drying my eyes with his hanky. “They will be coming back soon. Let us not spoil their happiness with our tears.” He wiped his own eyes before giving the handkerchief to Erestor.

 

My parents were grief stricken, but held themselves after their initial shock. Cireolas was asleep in his baby chair. He missed the whole scene, or maybe Nienna had ensured that he did not hear the bad news. Our babies floated down to our waiting arms.

 

“It was great!” Geli laughed.

 

“I want to go again,” Ereodan shouted to me.

 

Both babies, who had been presented nude, were now clothed. The Valar insist on the babies being sent nude, they are born so, and it means there are no trappings of position or nobility. The new clothing forms on them immediately, and then the babies play and are given presents and desirable character traits. They wore new circlets and they glowed as if the light of Ithil was within them. Very few elves can glow because few are taken up into the sky by the Valar. Most babies when presented stay in their parent’s arms when they are blessed.

 

We put a brave face on and laughed along with our excited elflings, who wanted to tell us all that had happened. Soon, both Geli and Ereodan fell asleep. We put them to bed, wearing their all in one baby pyjamas, which the Valar had given as one of the gifts. Little forest animals were embroidered on them, and when the twins woke up the animals did too. When they slept the animals settled down and little zzz’s rose up from their noses.

 

We spent some time talking to Elrond, who has the gift of foresight, but he was unable to tell us the futures of our twins. He suspected the Valar were blocking any attempt he made to foretell what might happen. “As Erestor said, it might not be for a very long time yet.” He looked consolingly at us; it was all he could do.

 

“It could be soon though,” Círdan said. “It could be anytime.”

 

“It could,” Elrond agreed. “Would Nienna say to you to give Geli a happy life if the end was imminent? I think not. It sounds as if they are going to give you time for a good relationship to form and for many happy memories to be remembered when she has to make her choice.”

 

“It is a comfort to talk to someone who can see the wood from the trees,” I said, grasping onto his words. “It sounds as if we have a few years yet at least.”

 

“It will give you time to prepare.” Elrond sighed before continuing. “You are both committed to your elflings and so I see no reason why Geli would not choose to be with you again. Fëanor’s life was tough and often uncomfortable. I lived with Maglor and Maedhros for a time; they made life as pleasant as possible for me and Elros, but life was nowhere near as comfortable, or as free, as it is today.”

 

“I would like to hope that Geli would choose us.” Círdan's face crumpled with grief and it was a few seconds before he could carry on. “Our little family has suffered enough at the whims of the Valar, especially Ereolas. I do not think that we can take much more.”

 

“I am sure the Valar will consider that. Remember, all they do is ensure that Eru’s song reaches fruition. Sometimes they have to do things that we disagree with.”

 

“I have no love for them anymore,” I declared. “I have always led my life according to their principles and guidance, but this is the last straw. I believe they hate me and they do not care that I have always been their most loyal of subjects.”

 

“No, meleth,” Círdan said and stroked my hand. “They do not hate you. I would say that you are caught up in momentous events because of who you once were and that the legacy is continuing even now. High-born elves shape the destinies of many and that means more input from the Valar. You were once a great king and now you are a great lord; you are bound to receive much more attention off the Valar than an ordinary elf and they are bound to ask more of you.”

 

“I wish I was an ordinary elf,” I said softly.

 

“I am glad you are not, meleth.” Círdan looked at me fondly. “I might not have found you otherwise.”

 

“Círdan is right,” Elrond said. “Also, you have Valar given advantages that other elves do not.”

 

“I would trade them all for Geli.”

 

“What is sung cannot be unsung,” Elrond said. “All we have is our future and even that will fulfil the song.”

 

“Then there is nothing we can do.” I sighed and stood up. “Please do not think me rude but I am very tired.”

 

“Of course.” Elrond laid his hand on my arm. “When the time comes we will be here to support you both. You and Círdan are very dear to us.”

 

We thanked Elrond and he left. I felt drained and without hope.

 

We slept fitfully that night. In the morning we went to see our elflings. “Hello, Ada.” Geli beamed at me. “Give me a cuddle.” I picked her up; she smelt of baby oil.

 

“Hello, beautiful one.” I smiled and kissed her tiny pink lips.

 

It broke my heart that I would not always be able to cuddle her. For now I could not let her know what was in my heart. I had to make life extremely happy for her because our future long term happiness, in the far distance, depended on it.

 

 

 

  **Part 110 – Cireolas’ Painting.**

 

 

 

It has been a month since I last wrote my journal. I could not bear to look at the book where I recorded the unhappiness of Nienna’s message to us during the presentation of the twins to the Valar, so I closed it forever.

 

In the end, the book was locked away and Círdan bought me a new journal. He told me to start writing again, so that everything we did could be recorded. When the unhappy time comes, we will be left with more than memories as everything will be written down. Even now it breaks me to write about it, but I must so that we are able to carry on afterwards.

 

Erestor and Legolas have stayed, and will do so for a while longer. Ada Legolas was particularly distressed by the news and for the pain we would one day endure. He says that he cannot leave me until I am happy again. Very slowly, my happiness is returning as I dare to hope that we may have some time yet.

 

Elrond and Celebrían have gone back to Imladris with Mel and Glorfindel. Elladan and Elrohir remain here. Thranduil and Merilnis departed with Saelir and Aikanáro and are now back in Mirkwood. Queen Nenuial, Nuinzilien and Haldir went part of the way with them and then carried on to Lothlórien. The place feels empty now. All the accompanying warriors from the three realms have left and Mithlond is quiet once again.

 

My little twins are sitting up by themselves now and Cireolas is walking better. He still talks baby language, but he is not reborn so we can allow him a little slowness. The strange thing is that Geli and Ereodan have not mentioned being high-kings or oath swearing since they were presented. I am not going to say anything, just in case it starts them off again. Orophin has spent a lot of time with Cireolas, trying to curb his cheekiness. It is not very successful, but at least Mel is not here egging him on. He is also learning how to write his name.

 

This morning, Cireolas ran into our private family sitting room. “Look, Ada,” he shouted joyfully. “I write my name.”

 

He held a large rectangular piece of paper. On it he had painted his name and some random dots of colour. “You are so clever,” I said, pulling him onto my lap.

 

“Where, Ada Círdan? I show him.”

 

“He is in a meeting. Why don’t we frame your painting and hang it on the wall in his office?”

 

“Like a present for Ada?” Cireolas' little face beamed.

 

“Yes, it will be a wonderful present from his very clever ion.” I hugged him to myself and stroked his hair feeling extremely proud of him.

 

The twins were asleep in their day cot beside the sofa. I woke them up and put them in their baby walker. “Where are we going?” Ereodan asked.

 

“We are going to the see the Court Artist to show him Cireolas’ first word painting.”

 

“Let me see it.” Geli grinned at me. She looked at the painting while Cireolas pointed to his name and said that Orophin had written it down for him and he had copied it.

 

_Please do not be sarcastic,_ I thought as both twins looked at it, _he is very proud of his first attempt_.

 

“It is quite good really, isn’t it?” Geli said. “I can write my name too.”

 

“I can as well,” Ereodan said to Cireolas. “You are like us now.”

 

Cireolas was so happy. I glowed with pride because he had written his name and the twins had been nice to him. “Let’s go.” I pushed the baby walker through the door and out of the apartment. Cireolas held onto my hand while I pushed with the other.

 

We gave the Court Artist the painting and he was very complimentary about it. We all watched as he mounted the painting on a board, before covering it with a sheet of glass and placing it in a frame. It took a while; he had to find a board that fitted the frame and was big enough to mount the painting. The elflings watched fascnated as he hammered small tacks in the back of the frame to keep the board and glass against the frame.

 

“Shall we wrap it?” he asked Cireolas. “If we do it will be even more of a surprise.”

 

“Yes please,” Cireolas jumped up and down because he was so excited.

 

“I made some paper with pressed flowers in it, last week,” the Court Artist said, leafing through several stacks of thick mottled paper. “Ah, here it is.” He took the frame and covered it with paper and glued the edges, before tying it with a long piece of string. “There you are, young Cireolas.”

 

“Thank you.” Cireolas looked at me. “Look, Ada. It present now.”

 

I thanked the Court Painter. Geli asked him if he would like to paint her portrait. “I am very beautiful, you know,” she said, as her two brothers fell about laughing. We booked a date because it was a good idea of hers. One can never have too many paintings of their elflings.

 

We then went along to Círdan’s office. He was in a meeting, so we waited for it to end. It did not carry on for long, probably because I did not try to keep the elflings quiet. He would have easily been able to hear them through the door. The Seneschal and the Captain of the Guard opened the door and greeted the elflings and me. Cireolas told them he had a present for his Ada.

 

“I am sure he will love it,” Angaráto said to him and smiled.

 

“Better go in and see him quickly,” Silimaurë said, ruffling Cireolas’ hair. “I am sure he will want it as soon as possible.”

 

I carried the painting into the office, while pushing the twins in at the same time. Cireolas ran ahead and joyfully shouted to Círdan that he had a present for him. “Look, Ada Erruss got your present,” he said excitedly.

 

I gave the painting to Cireolas, so that he could give it to Círdan. I kept hold of the corner so it did not fall over. “Is that for me?” Círdan asked Cireolas, smiling at him.

 

“It from me, to you,” Cireolas shouted happily. He is always loud when excited.

 

“Ada,” Ereodan said. “Open it.”

 

“Yes, hurry up,” Geli said. “Even though I know what it is, the suspense is killing me.”

 

“Shall I open it?” Círdan said to Cireolas.

 

“Yes!” three little voices yelled in unison.

 

“All right then.” Círdan grinned. He removed the paper. “How wonderful. Did you paint your name all by yourself?”

 

“Orophin wrote it and I copy it,” Cireolas said proudly. “Ada said give it to you for a present.”

 

“Your Ada is very clever,” Círdan picked him up and kissed his cheek. “He knew that I would think it was the best painting I had ever seen in my life. It is so special that I am going to put it over there on the other wall, so that when I am sitting at my desk I can see it in front of me.”

 

Círdan walked to the opposite wall and removed the painting of me as an elfling, which had hung there for years, and put Cireolas’ painting up instead. “We will put this painting up in our sitting room,” my husband said to me. He then said that the whole office wall could be covered with our elflings paintings and drawings.

 

“Let us go to lunch,” I took Cireolas from Círdan, and he pushed the baby walker out of the office. We went to the dinner hall.

 

Small memories like this will one day be precious. I will record each and every one of them, lest we lose them forever. Let us hope that we have many years of recording our joy.

 

 

 

 

**Part 111 – Picnic on the Beach.**  

 

 

 

“Meleth,” Círdan said, as I was sitting on the toilet of all places. “Let us have a late night walk and have some ‘you and me’ time.”

 

“Where shall we walk?” I reached for one of the fluffy bum wipers.

 

“Wherever our walk takes us, my only one.” Círdan screwed his face up. “Someone once wrote that elves smell of flowers when they poo. They should smell you and know just how badly they got it wrong.”

 

“Obviously written by someone who was not an elf.” I chuckled; it didn't smell too bad to me. “Happily, your willy isn’t as discriminating as your nose seems to be. I have no doubt it will want to make acquaintance with my smelly parts later on, and so might your tongue.”

 

“You are so crude.” Círdan smiled in spite of himself. “I cannot believe you said that.”

 

I wiped myself and flicked my willy in Círdan’s direction, because I could. I poured the jug of water down the pan to make sure the trapdoor opened at the base and then washed my hands with the remaining water. It always made me smile when I went to the toilet because, without fail, I would remember Alatáriël proudly telling me on our wedding night that she had a servant whose only function was to wipe her bottom. It still amuses me. I made sure she did the job herself when she came to the Greenwood.

 

Círdan took my hand and led me into the bedroom. “Wear only a robe, meleth,” he said. “We may want to go swimming.”

 

“What have you planned?” I was more than suspicious.

 

“A late night picnic under Ithil and our Lady's Veil, on the beach, beside the sea.” Círdan pulled me to him. “Remember when we were newlywed? We always went for late night walks so that we would not be bothered and could truly be alone.”

 

“We have our elflings now."

 

“Yes, I know, but sometimes I would like to be totally alone with you. We are always at risk of being interrupted at night when we are in bed, so I thought an hour or two at the beach having a late night picnic and sharing a glass of wine, would be good for us.”

 

“So no sex involved?” I smirked as I put my robe on. Círdan snatched away my loincloth as I went to put it on.

 

“You won't need that." He dropped it on the floor. Círdan rose from the chair and walked behind the sofa. He reappeared with a large picnic basket.

 

We took a lighted torch each and made our way down the hidden staircase that led to the secret tunnel down to our private beach.

 

The sea was rippling with small waves as a warm, light wind blew across it. The stars mostly hid behind the clouds, partially obscuring Ithil's light. Círdan spread a blanket on the ground and we sat down.

 

“What have you brought?” I asked as I staked the torch in the ground.

 

“The usual.” Círdan grinned as if he was very pleased with himself. “Oysters, sparkling vintage Lórien, lobster salad and chocolate pots.”

 

“Chocolate pots?” I was amazed. Chocolate is rare indeed, and prohibitively expensive. Most elves will never taste it.

 

“Only the best for the one I love.” Círdan held an oyster to my mouth. I swallowed it before taking a shell and holding it up to his lips. He took the oyster into his mouth before pushing his lips against mine. As his tongue slid into my mouth so did the uneaten oyster.

 

I passed it straight back. “I hope that was the oyster and not a lump of...”

 

“Don’t!” Círdan said, looking revolted. “That is foul.” I went to open my mouth. “Stop right there.” He held his hand up and looked quickly away.

 

I laughed. “Have another oyster, darling.” I slipped it into his mouth and took one for myself.

 

It was inevitable that we would start kissing. “Let us finish our picnic and then we can play,” Círdan said as he stroked my neck.

 

We ate the lobster salad and the chocolate pots while talking about inconsequential things. At the end of the picnic we sat together, Círdan’s arm around my shoulder, looking out to sea.

 

“I wonder if the fishes are still awake.” I sipped my wine, savouring the bubbly tingle.

 

“The day fish will be still and hidden.” Círdan kissed my cheek. “The fish that come out at night will be swimming around now.”

 

“Is a night fish different to a day fish?” I asked, maintaining the scintillating conversation.

 

“They glow in the water. The glow ripples through them, and it can be any colour. I have seen tentacle creatures rippling with different colours. Other fish can glow too, but most are not so bright.”

 

I have never been to sea. Círdan says that every sea voyage is fraught with danger because the sea is unpredictable and there are dreadful monsters beneath the deep waters that sometimes rise and pull down whole ships. I know this is true, because on one occasion, a few years ago, I was looking out to sea, and in the distance I saw a mermaid being caught in a net thrown overboard from a pirate ship. She screamed at the top of her beautiful voice. The pirates could be heard, by myself and others watching on the dock, taunting her as she pleaded for her life. That is the only time I have ever seen the Kraken, and a fearsome sight it was too. It tore the ship apart with its tentacles. Everyone on board, apart from the mermaid, was shredded between its fearsome teeth. Unlike an octopus or squid, which have beaks, the Kraken has a hole instead, and it is lined with many rows of sharp teeth. It would be a terrifying death indeed to be killed by it. I think my Círdan is very brave travelling across the sea to Valinor, but, as he points out, his ship is doing the bidding of the Valar; therefore, it is protected from harm, even from the weather. He will make another voyage soon and I will miss him, as I always do. There are nearly enough elves who want to sail, so when another couple arrive, he will depart.

  

“Is it safe to go in the water at night?” I felt as though I would like to wet my skin in the cool water so that the warm wind could dry me, but did not want to be eaten by some murderous sea animal.

 

“Of course,” Círdan coaxed. “We must not go out too far though because swimmers can become disorientated, especially if they cannot see the beach in the darkness.”

 

“I was thinking of us going no further out than our shoulder height. I do not want a sea monster to eat me.”

 

Círdan laughed. “The sea monsters remain in the deepest waters, unless they are summoned by Ulmo to attack.”

 

“I have seen one attack a ship,” I told him.

 

“Yes, I know. The Kraken is probably the most fearsome monster in the sea.” He hugged my shoulder a fraction tighter to reassure me. “You would be lucky to see it more than once every couple of hundred years.”

 

“It terrified me.” I leaned my head on my only one’s chest, feeling quite vulnerable.

 

“You will be safe with me.” Círdan stroked my hair. “I have Ulmo’s protection, and, as you are my mate, you do too. I promise that nothing will touch you in the sea.”

 

“I do not believe anything will, but I would like to stay in the shallow waters just in case. Tentacles frighten me and so do jellyfish with their long hanging strands. Their stings are strong enough to kill human men, so they are bound to have an effect on us too.”

 

“I promise you that with Ulmo’s protection nothing will harm you.” Círdan pulled my face to his for a kiss. He stood up and offered me his hand. “Shall we get wet?”

 

I took his hand, “I hope you are right.” My robe fell onto the beach.

 

We walked down to the water’s edge. The little wavelets of the outgoing tide washed over my feet. I felt as though I was a small, minute part of something much larger. Here was the awesome power of the sea and I was awed by it. Nothing on land is as powerful, and I wondered whether it had a consciousness that allowed it to move back and forth in the tides.

 

We held hands as we walked into the sea. Soon we were up to our shoulders. I looked back to the beach and could see the two torches burning brightly.

 

Círdan pulled me close. “Have you ever had sex in the sea?”

 


	39. Part 112 – Sex in the Sea. Part 113 – Janet and her Horrible, Badly Brought up Children. Part 114 – When The Master is Away, The Kraken Will Play.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Círdan and Ereolas have sex in the sea and something is not amused. Círdan and Ereolas find out why Ulmo does not want them having sex in the sea. Janet the Kraken goes on a murderous rampage when Ulmo is summoned to appear before Manwë.

 

 

**Part 112 – Sex in the Sea.**

 

 

“No, Meleth, I have never had sex in the sea,” I said to Círdan, who was holding my softness with one hand, trying to cause a change of state, and draping his other arm around my back. The water was just past our waists.

 

“It feels different to doing it on land.” He kissed me lightly on the lips.

 

I looked around fearfully; there might be some watching jellyfish. Círdan might have the protection of Ulmo, and by association I might have too; however, the sea animals might not know that. “I am really nervous.” Círdan was busy stroking my semi-hardness. “Supposing a fish swims up my arse?”

 

“That won’t happen.” Círdan laughed. “I can tell you are nervous; your willy normally jumps to attention whenever I am near. Just relax. Nothing terrible is going to happen.”

 

“You seem very certain. How do you know nothing is going to happen?”

 

“Put your legs around my waist.” Círdan sighed, as if he was talking to a particularly thick witted human. I did as I was told, mainly because he had pulled one of my legs up already.

 

I felt something pushing into me. “That is your finger? Isn’t it?”

 

Círdan laughed. “Yes, Meleth. Now relax. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

 

It may be considered that my fear of having sex in the sea is unreasonable, but until I saw the Kraken I had no fear of being there at all. I had nightmares after witnessing the pirate ship being torn asunder. In my dreams, tentacles were trying to smash through the windows of our castle and grab hold of me for no reason that I could think of. It is illogical that the Kraken would want to attack me, but that is the nature of nightmares. In the end, my rather sleep bereft Círdan dragged me off to Imladris for a supposed holiday. He asked Elrond to cure me, which he did. I was only in my eighties, so I was still impressionable.

 

I felt Círdan’s fingers leave me and his hardness push into place. He kissed me gently and told me that he loved me as he always does. His lips kissed my mouth and his hands stroked my body. All the time the water supported us. I felt as though each push was exaggerated because there was nothing to keep us in place and we were weightless. In the end, my desire outweighed the fear and I reciprocated. It was totally different to having sex in bed and felt more intimate somehow; we had to keep a hold of each other and not let go.

 

We came together, under the night stars that peeped through a clearing in the clouds. Ithil remained hidden but her glow could still be seen.

 

“How was that?” Círdan asked, a satisfied grin on his face. “You loved it, didn’t you?”

 

“It was unlike anything I have ever experienced.” I kissed his lips, feeling exceptionally pleased with myself. “I was as though I weighed nothing. I had to keep hold of you so I did not float away.”

 

“Would you do it again? After all nothing has happened to you, has it?”

 

“I think it might be good to do it during the day.” I gave him my naughtiest grin.

 

“So like you to be an exhibitionist.” Círdan chuckled. “I think we would have quite an audience.” We neared the beach. “Hold onto that rock.” We were walking through the ebbing. “You can compare land and sea all in one evening.”

 

I held onto the rock. Círdan swiftly parted my legs and pushed into me. “Make it quick, Meleth,” I said. “You have not used any oil.” A horrible thought occurred to me. Círdan hadn't used any in the sea, but it had felt slippery around my entrance. How was that, I wondered.

 

He withdrew. “I packed some. I will go and get it.”

 

Before I could protest about being left in the alien sea, he had run up the beach and sorted through the picnic basket. He came back just as swiftly and pushed me down onto the rock again.

 

Círdan entered me and pushed in and out furiously. “You are so fucking tight,” he breathed harshly. “I have you time and time again and you remain so tight.” I leaned my head to the side so we could kiss. Afterwards, I cried out my desire, and made quite a bit of noise actually.

 

“I never want to stop this,” Círdan said as he held onto me tightly, his fingers pressing into my hips. “You are mine, forever. I am going to have you all night.”

 

All right, Círdan says some really clichéd things when he is delighting in my body, but they are always loving and never negative. We stayed at an inn once, and the human couple next door called each other names that would have Círdan and me tearing each other’s throats out if we said them. They seemed to delight in it though. We heard the bed knocking against the wall with such ferocity that I thought it would come crashing through the wall. In the end, Círdan went next door and threatened to run them both through with a sword if they did not let him get some sleep. I think as elves we have to be more careful of each others' feelings as we have all of our immortality to regret hurting someone. A word said in the heat of the moment can be remembered years later and twisted to mean something completely different, so it is best to say nothing at all.

 

We came loudly. There was no one to hear what we were doing. “Let us spend all of tonight in the sea loving one another.” Círdan sucked my neck softly, still wallowing in his sexual haze.

 

“I would rather you did not.” A loud voice boomed from behind us. We looked around, and I started to scream like a girl, clinging onto Círdan and begging him to save me.

 

Ulmo stood in front of us, hundreds of feet high. Next to him, watching us with its black slitted, red glowing eye, was his pet...

 

 

**Part 113 – Janet and her Horrible, Badly Brought up Children.**

I held onto Círdan for dear life. “Don’t let it eat me,” I cried, absolutely terrified.

 

A tentacle wrapped around our waists. I screamed and howled in my terror. My insides were churning, and I vomited with revulsion at the thing holding us.

 

“It is all right,” Círdan kept saying and held onto me tightly. I did not heed him. So extreme was my terror that I could not do anything except think about surviving. Everything comes to an end and my screaming was no exception. I realise that I exhibited a shockingly weak display of elleth type feelings not worthy of an ex-king, but I defy anyone not to in a situation like that.

 

“Ereolas,” Ulmo said to me. “You have no need to fear, little Janet. She merely has hold of you so that I can see you better. You come to the Valar; we do not come to you.”

 

“Little Janet?”  I squeaked. “She is huge.”

 

“Her mother was much bigger,” Ulmo replied. “Now you two, I am very disappointed in you both.”

 

“Why?” Círdan asked. I said nothing as I was still frightened. My incredibly brave husband, who I adore, stroked my shoulder to reassure me.

 

“Well I let my merchildren stay up late. They had been particularly well behaved during the day, and when I tried to find them, to tell them that they had to go to bed, they were nowhere to be found.” Ulmo looked grim. “I found them watching you two having sex, with little Janet here selling tickets. How would you feel if your elflings watched a public sex display? You are both rulers and should know better.”

 

“We did not realise that anyone would be watching,” Círdan said. “How are we to know your kids were allowed to stay up late, or that your pet is a shameless opportunist?”

 

“What?” Ulmo exploded. “The sea is my home and where I live. You had sex in my house and didn’t even try to find a private place. What would happen if I had sex in the Hall of the Crystal Thrones, while an official reception was going on and your elflings could see it? You wouldn’t be very happy would you?”

 

Ulmo stood hundreds of feet high and so did his ‘little’ pet. We were microscopic compared to him, and we were held fast in Janet's tentacle. In the swirling sea below I could see a thrashing mass of octopi and squid. “Master,” Janet said. “My children saw it as well, and I am not terribly happy about it.” So it was all right for Ulmo’s kids to be corrupted but not hers. She lifted one of her children up to our level, who delightedly told us that he had seen us shagging. Then it squirted a jet of black liquid at me and laughed. “That was very naughty,” Janet said. "Down you go if you cannot behave yourself." Círdan said she dropped it. I hoped the fall killed it.

 

The black liquid jet hit me in the eyes and I could not see. My elleth type feelings caused me to lose control again, and I screamed in agony as I tried to hastily rub the viscous fluid from my eyes. Everything went black. Something slimy tried to wipe my eyes, which caused me to scream further because I knew exactly what it was.

 

“Janet, leave him alone,” Ulmo said. “I know you are trying to help but...” I did not hear anymore because she literally took him at his word. The tight arm of flesh around my middle loosened and I felt myself falling to what I assumed would be my death. Círdan must have fallen too because when Ulmo’s large hand caught us he took hold of me straightaway and held me tight.

 

“I cannot see,” I cried, burying my head in his shoulder. “Please say this is a nightmare. Please Círdan. Please say it is not real...” I babbled on like that for ages and all the time he talked to me, trying to calm my terror and telling me that we would be all right.

 

“If you were not so ugly Janet they would not be so scared of you,” Ulmo sniped as he laughed. “Look at Ereolas, he is a wreck and we haven’t even done anything to him.”

 

“Master,” Janet replied. “I must remind you that I won, ‘The most beautiful sea creature of the first age’ prize.”

 

“You were a baby then. Lucky you are so ugly, otherwise you would not be a threat and you would be of no use to me at all.”

 

“They are not frightened of me because I am ugly, as I am not,” Janet replied. “I am very beautiful to other sea creatures. It is simply a matter of size and my awesome powers of destruction. Anyway if I were that ugly I would not be your lover.”

 

“Hush now,” Ulmo whispered urgently. “They might hear you. Ossë’s wife already suspects the worst. She hinted that I was a pervert the other day.”

 

WHAT??? Ewwww! It doesn’t bear thinking about. How repulsive! In what part of the sea monster does Ulmo put his willy???

 

“Let’s put them back,” Janet suggested. “I think they have learnt their lesson. Anyway, who cares what Uinen thinks. You are a Valar; she cannot tell you what to do.  You just wait until I see her; I am going to give her a piece of my mind.”

 

We were going back home. “I cannot see,” I whined to Círdan, “My eyes hurt.”

 

“We will wash them out when we get back.” Círdan held me a little tighter and kissed my lips.

 

The tentacle fastened around our waists again. We were deposited on the beach after promising Ulmo that we would not have sex in the sea again. Círdan asked about the black stuff in my eyes and how to remove it. Ulmo replied that he did not know how I was going to get it out; most elves and men who were squirted with it tended to die of being horribly mangled shortly afterwards. 

 

I could not feel the sand under my feet, only slimy wriggling tentacles. They were grabbing my feet and biting my feet with their sharp, slicing beaks. This was accompanied by much laughter, no doubt because Janet’s nasty little children decided they did not have to heed Ulmo’s rule about not harming Círdan’s spouse. “Leave him alone,” Círdan ordered, but they did not. He tried picking me up but they pulled me down again. It was a relief when my only one found the door to the tunnel leading up to the gardens; the key was poking out of the door. Círdan guided me as I could still not see a thing. We reached the outside of the castle and he locked the door to the secret tunnel behind us.

 

“They cannot reach us now,” Círdan said and held me close.

 

I felt a wet tapping on my shoulder. Círdan yelled with surprise. “Yoo hoo!” came Janet’s voice somewhere near us. “Just proving you wrong. Oh! Look, a cat. Does it belong to anyone?”

 

“It is probably a one of the castle rat catchers,” Círdan answered. “Why?”

 

I heard an unearthly squealing, which stopped rather suddenly. “Less meat on it than I expected,” Janet’s voice tittered before she slid away, back into the sea. I heard her tentacles slithering across the stone. According to Círdan, she was so heavy that a rocky outcrop was dislodged, which would explain the words I heard her muttering in the distance, “Ow! Bloody rocks.”

 

“Walk ahead, there is only grass,” Círdan said as he took my arm. On the lower levels, where the main walkways, gardens and patios are situated, there were the sounds of pandemonium. Elves were panicking, and it was obvious that Círdan would have to make an appearance after taking me to our rooms.

 

I heard him unlock the door to the private stairs leading to our apartment. He picked me up. “Valar!” he exclaimed. “I did not realise your feet were so hurt. They are in a terrible state. They are pouring with blood from some rather nasty bites.”

 

I could hear dripping on the steps. “I am more concerned about my eyes.”

 

“I will get the healer as soon as we get back. I am sure the black stuff will wash out.” He opened the door that led to the private sitting room in our apartment and carried me through to the bedroom where he laid me down. I heard him tearing what I assumed was a sheet and he wrapped it around my feet. “Back soon,” he said, and left me alone.

 

I pulled the bed covers over my body and lay wondering why it was always me who had things happen to him. There could be fifty thousand elves all together and I would be the one who got hurt. It is not fair. What is more, I have done nothing to deserve this continued run of unfortunate bad luck. What Valar have I upset for this to happen to me?

 

Oh! I know which one. He is making me pay for continuing to live here when he wanted me to die and be reborn as a king in Valinor.

 

Throw as much as you like at me, Manwë. I am staying here!

 

 

 

**Part 114 – When The Master is Away, The Kraken Will Play.**

 

 

Círdan came back to our rooms with Elladan, whom I consider the superior of the two twins in healing ability.

 

“I have to go and maintain order,” Círdan said hurriedly. He kissed my cheek. “The elves on the lower levels are extremely frightened. I will be back soon.”

 

“Círdan told me a little bit about what went on,” Elladan said as his fingers gently touched near my eyes. “He said that one of the sea monster’s children shot its ink in to your eye.”

   


“I cannot see a thing and it is still stinging. It hurts more than my feet.”

 

“It has burnt the surface of your eye,” he said. I could feel him close to me. “I have only seen damage like that when someone has escaped a fire.” He then moved to my feet, unwrapping them from the cloth that Círdan had wound around them. “You won’t be walking for a while on these. I need to stop the blood and stitch the wounds, if I can.”

 

“Why me?” I whined. “It is always me that gets the shit.”

 

“You haven’t had a good time of it lately, have you? You have had a run of some very bizarre and nasty things.”

 

I was close to tears. I had survived an assassination attempt, a snake bite, being told my little Geli would die, and several other things. This was the last straw. I did not know how much more I could deal with.

 

“I will carry you down to the healing block.” Elladan gathered the blankets around me and went to lift me up. “Ada?” he said, and dropped me. Luckily it was only a couple of inches fall onto the mattress, because, no doubt, I would have had yet another bizarre injury to add to the catalogue of personal disasters. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Hello, Elladan.” Elrond sounded resigned. “Ereolas, you seem to have been hurt again.”

 

“How are you here?” I asked; he had left for Imladris a while ago. “Did you decide to come back by some fortunate chance?”

 

“Manwë summoned me. He said that you needed my help. I was nearly home and now I am transported back here.” I felt Elrond opening my eyes. He tutted. “This is not good at all.” Yes, Elrond, just what I needed to hear, how comforted I feel now.

 

“You should see his feet, Ada.” Elladan unwrapped them again.

 

“Valar!” Elrond exclaimed, not taking any notice of the effect on me. “That must have been incredibly painful.”

 

“I am more concerned about my eyes. I do not want to lose my sight.”

 

“Let’s get you to the healing block. We can wash your eyes out there. Lord Manwë has given me extra healing energy for you.” Elrond placed his hand on my shoulder. I assume it was his hand anyway. “Lord Manwë is upset that you are blaming him for this. He wants you to know that he is going to deal with the Kraken, and Ulmo’s inability to control his pet and her children, straightaway.”

 

“Manwë hates me because I disrupted Eru’s song and did not die, so that I could be re-embodied in Valinor and rule a kingdom there,” I told Elrond. “Since then I have been hit by a succession of personal disasters and heartbreak.”

 

“Manwë wanted me to impress upon you that even though you irritate the life out of him with your wilfulness and inability to feel awed in his presence, he does not hate you and does not wish you harm. In fact he is of the opinion that you have suffered more than most elves and life has dealt you a very unfair hand. He told me to tell you that.”

 

“He could have told me that himself."

 

“You would not listen to him if he did, and you did say that you would not follow him anymore after the twins presentation. Happily, he blames your grief about Geli for your rejection and hatred of the Valar, which is why he has sent me here to heal you so that you will know that he still cares for you.”

 

“It is too late for that. He has hurt me too much.”

 

“Accept his gift,” Elrond said softly to me. “Otherwise I have to go and you will be blind for the rest of your life.”

 

“I have no choice.” I felt defeated and disheartened. How could Manwë make out that he cared for me when he had done so much to hurt me in the past?

 

Elladan picked me up and took me down by the private staircase to the gardens and over to the healing block. I could hear elves screaming and wailing in the distance, and the sea sounded extremely angry. I thought I could hear rocks falling.

 

“What is going on?” I asked, moving my head towards the noise as if I could still see.

 

“I do not know,” Elladan replied hastily. “There is a huge tentacle waving in the air. We had better get inside.”

 

“It has come from somewhere over there,” Elrond said urgently. “I think it is from the direction of the dock.”

 

“That’s Ulmo’s pet, Janet,” I told them. “She is the Kraken.” I heard the door to the healing block open.

 

“Janet?” Elrond snorted. “Her name is Janet?” Happily we were inside the healing block by the time he said that, or else I fear that Elrond might have attracted her attention.

 

“Drink this,” Elladan said in a worried voice, as he held a glass to my lips. “I hope we are safe here.”

 

I remember no more. I awoke in bed, in our apartment, with my eyes covered in bandages and my feet throbbing with pain.

 

Círdan lay beside me. All was quiet. “Meleth,” he said. “How do you feel?”

 

“My feet hurt.” I tentatively tried to feel them with my fingers. Tight bandages covered them but the slightest pressure sent waves of pain through me. I felt the bandage over my eyes, it was well padded and I was thankful that they did not hurt anymore.

 

“At least you are alive. We have lost some elves to the Kraken. She smashed most of the curtain wall and the windows on the seaward facing wall of the keep. Her tentacles reached into the rooms and pulled several elves out; then she ate them. I do not know if their screams will ever leave me.” I felt Círdan’s face; it was wet with tears. He has shed tears on fewer occasions that one can count the fingers on a hand in all the time I have known him. “She ate an elfling. Janet’s tentacles got to her before we could save her. I have never seen anything so awful in my life. Her screams of pain and terror will never leave me.”

 

It was too much. I felt my eyes watering as I allowed my elleth type feelings to come to the surface. “Why doesn’t Manwë stop her? Why does he allow her to exist?”

 

“He has stopped her,” Círdan said. “He summoned Ulmo to his presence directly after Janet allowed her children to hurt you, and that is when she took advantage of the situation and terrorised everyone because her master was not there to stop her. When he became aware of what she was doing Manwë put a stop to it.”

 

“What did he do to stop her?” I asked, yawning as I felt sleep claiming me again.

 

“I will write it down in your journal for you. It is too painful to talk about while it is so fresh and raw in my mind. Mel is here. Manwë brought him back. He is with our elflings and giving them a kiss goodnight.” I heard the door open and Círdan told me that Elrond had come to see me.

 

Elrond said hello to both of us. I felt the mattress go down as he sat on it. He placed his hands on either side of my head, “Sleep,” he said to me and I did.


	40. Part 115 – Battling the Kraken. Part 116 – Death to the Kraken! Part 117 – Reflecting With Mel.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Círdan tells of Janet the Kraken’s murderous rampage. Círdan tells how the sea monster was defeated. Círdan writes about his conversation with Mel after the battle.

 

 

 

 

**Part 115 – Battling the Kraken.**

 

Círdan’s POV - writing in Ereolas' journal **  
**

 

 

 

Meleth, I am writing this entry for you as it concerns what happened on the night that Janet the Kraken took advantage of the fact that her master, Ulmo, was temporarily away and used it to go on a murderous rampage. I thought you might like a record of the events.

   


Ereolas, my only one, you are the one whom I adore and will always love, let me record in this journal how worried I was for you when Janet’s malevolent offspring bit your feet and shredded the skin from them. I worried that you would never walk again, but Elrond has said that you will and that your feet are healing well. He says that by applying the extra healing energy Manwë has gifted him, the open areas will grow new skin. He also said your eyes will eventually heal. Let me write here, to expressed forever, that even if they did not my love for you would never change; however, I might drive you to the edge of insanity by being over-protective and trying to do everything for you.

 

I feel terrible about having assured you that no harm would come to you because you are my spouse. I was assured of this by Ulmo himself, who is either untrustworthy or has considerably weakened in his control of those who roam the seas. He is an old friend of mine and, although this will sound hollow, he will be very concerned and ashamed that Janet’s offspring have hurt you in this way and that she went on a rampage after he was called away.

 

After I deposited you on our bed, I went to Elladan’s rooms and found him in bed with two warriors. Their attention was so absorbed with activity that they were not aware of the commotion outside. The warriors quickly put their clothing on and took their weapons. I told Elladan to come immediately because you were injured by the Kraken’s evil offspring.

 

I left him with you in our rooms and promised to alert the other healers, if I could, and direct them to the healing block.

 

There was mayhem on the lower levels. A candle lit birthday party was in progress on one of the terraces and quite a few elves were promenading along the others. It started off as one of those balmy summer nights where everything is affected by a pleasant lassitude and the air is still and quiet. According to one of the warriors, a huge tentacle smashed in between two terraces and the elves on them went flying through the air. Then they saw a huge, red glowing eye looking at them, as the monster slowly rose above the surface of the water up to the terrace level. There was much panicking as elves sought to find a way to safety. Those on the middle terraces were trapped when a huge tentacle slammed down to the other side of the already broken walkway. I wondered then if Janet would kill us all.

 

 The panicking elves smashed the lower level windows of the keep and climbed through. I arrived at this point and gave our warriors a hastily thought out plan of action. Ropes and ladders were secured between the terraces, so the trapped had an alternative means of escape. The tentacles were already following the elves into the rooms they had sought to escape through. We hacked and sliced at the thick arms of the beast, but to no avail. It was futile, and we could do no damage. Instead we directed our efforts at saving as many as we could. Lady Mélawen was caught up in one of the tentacles, and her small iell ran after her. I threw myself forward to save her, but it was too late and the Kraken picked her up too. Her screams were unearthly. Even though I could have done nothing more, I will always blame myself for her horrific death. Meleth, do you suppose that Námo takes pity on elflings who are about to die and takes them before they suffer? I would like to think that Námo has some compassion for the innocent.

 

 

Our own elflings were having a picnic in the small wood at the front of the castle. They saw nothing of what happened. When they were due to return, Orophin held back because he sensed danger. They spent well into the evening, sitting in the branches of a tree with their nannies. Orophin entertained them by telling them stories of when you and Mel were elflings. I thank the Valar that they did not see what my eyes saw. I would not wish that on anyone.

   


The Kraken smashed the curtain wall and the lookout towers with her mighty tentacles. Happily, the guards on lookout duty had sensibly abandoned their posts and were now with me trying to rescue the stranded. We were at a point where we thought that all was lost and that there was no hope when we were rescued from an unexpected quarter. 

  


A glowing ball of golden light appeared on the terrace. Janet directed all her attention at it but could not damage it at all. We used the distraction to secure the safety of even more elves and directed them all to the front of the castle.

   


The light grew bigger and the kraken looked uncertain for the first time since she had started her attack. The light diminished. Revealed in all his golden Maia glory was your brother Mel, and he pronounced that he had been granted the power of Manwë himself to defeat the monster.

   


“You cannot harm me,” Janet sneered. She was wrong.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Part 116 – Death to the Kraken!**

**  
**

 

 

Círdan’s POV - writing in Ereolas' journal.

 

My only one, I love and adore you. Writing this journal for you is a constant reminder of your pain, but I will do it as you are worth everything in my eyes. How I wish I could ease your heart and bring joy and light back into your life again. I love you so much that to be away from you is to live only half a life; even if I am only in the next room, I would still desire you closer. Let us hope that your sight improves quickly, so that one day you can look upon my face and again see the adoration in my eyes that will always shine for you.

 

In the last journal entry I was up to the point where the one who would defeat the Kraken appeared in our most desperate hour.

 

Mel came to our aid. He appeared in his Maia form and glowed so brightly that Anor seemed to be embodied within him. He drew a sword of pure light and walked across the rubble of the curtain wall and over the top of the mountain ledge that holds the terrace base.

 

“I can defeat a Maia,” Janet taunted him. “You are nothing. Is this all the Valar could throw at me? You are not even a full Maia, only half of one.”

 

Mel grew in size so that he was hundreds of feet high, the same size as the kraken. “You took advantage of Ulmo’s absence and decided to destroy the castle of Mithlond. You have killed many elves. For that you will die.”

 

“Right,” Janet said in a disbelieving voice. “You and whose army?”

 

“Did you not think about the consequences of your actions? That Ulmo would punish you?” Mel asked, ignoring her previous taunt.

 

“Ulmo is my lover. He would have done nothing,” Janet sneered. “It was a simple matter to distract his attention so that my children could eat the weakling Ereolas’ feet, and, I assure you, he will not notice this bit of fun because I will keep him submerged and ply him with pleasurable attention so that he wants to stay below forever, if need be. No doubt the elves will repair everything. When they have finished he will not know any better. So you see, I win and you do not.”

 

“You do not win.” There was no inflection in Mel's voice, nor was there any taunting. He said it simply and without feeling.

 

“Of course, I win.” Janet raised her voice a notch. “One day this will all be mine. I will rule and my children will roam the seas killing all who oppose me.”

 

“You sound a pet worthy of Sauron.” Mel smirked at her, probably trying to enrage her so she would attack.

 

“Sauron,” she sneered. “He would be my pet. I would never be his. He is the most powerful Maia, more powerful than you, and yet he is nothing. Look. Do we see Sauron here, defending his honour and his ego? No, we do not. He is nothing to fear.”

 

“He is everything to fear. However, even mightier are the Valar and they can defeat you in a blink of an eye.”

 

“Yet they send a half-Maia instead.” Janet laughed, thinking she was winning the war of words. “I think the Valar do not care one bit about whether you will survive or not. Indeed, they are quite willing for me to kill you, because die, you will.” She then looked rather sarcastically at Mel. “Manwë has given you his power indeed! I think not. He would not trust a half-breed with anything. You have revealed yourself to be a liar.”

 

“I tire of your pointless taunting,” Mel said to her. “Your children bit my brother’s feet to ribbons. I will kill them too.” He reached down and scooped a writhing white mass from the sea and crushed them in his hand. When they stopped screaming, he let go and a thick stream of sludge fell to the sea hundreds of feet below. The enraged Janet attacked suddenly, but Mel was ready for her and fought back with his fiery sword and dagger.

 

I have never seen the like. It was at once terrifying and awesome, a battle of two titans. Janet’s children crawled up Mel and tried their best to defend their nana, but his attention never wavered because they were far too small to make an impact upon him when they tried to sink their beaks into his flesh. Janet attempted to squeeze the life out of Mel, who responded by growing so that she either let go or risk her arms tearing apart. He hacked with his sword before slashing the dagger across her eye. That was when she descended into frenzied madness and fought swiftly with all she possessed. Mel came dangerously close to being bitten by the large rows of teeth in her underside several times, and I noticed that his thick lengths of braided blond hair acted as slashing whips, aiming for her repeatedly. Rings of metal spikes circled the end of each braid and they tore her skin where they struck. His armour changed and became a mass of jagged spikes that dug into the tentacles that sought to restrain him and flail his body. We prayed to the Valar that Mel would quickly subdue the evil beast. He carried Lord Manwë’s awesome power, and it was as though the Vala himself was fighting in the sea.

 

The sea crashed about them. Huge waves smashed up the sides of the mountain, flooding the terraces with vast amounts of spray. Two of the Kraken’s children had the misfortune to land on the ground, near where I was standing. My warriors and I shredded them to pieces as they fought to escape. They cried out in their agony to their mother as they died. Her attention was momentarily diverted. Taking advantage, Mel plunged his flaming sword through her eye, then withdrew it and hacked her head in half with two blows. Even when dead she continued to writhe, but now it was without direction or intent.

 

The battle had not finished for Mel. He slashed his sword into the water many times and a great wailing rose in the air as he hacked her remaining children to pieces. There was no hiding place for them; he rooted them all out and killed them.

 

The sea was covered in the dead bodies of those whom Mel had killed. Never have I seen such a satisfying sight.

 

 

 

 

**Part 117 – Reflecting With Mel**

  
 

 

 

Círdan’s POV – writing in Ereolas’ journal.

 

The air was hushed, so silent that we could hear a baby howling in the healing block some distance away. Mel looked at me, his fair Maia face ringed by the light of Ithil. “The Lady Erviniae has given birth to an iell. The Lady Mélawen, who died at the hands of the Kraken, is now born again as a tiny baby. Perhaps you would tell her husband that his soul mate is reborn, and when they marry again their first elfling will be the iell they lost today. You might also let Silimaurë go to his wife and new baby?”

 

Silimaurë stood beside me. I urged him to make haste. In spite of all the horror that was around us, he managed to smile before running as fast as he could to the healing block.

 

Mel slowly diminished in stature and stepped onto the terrace; he seemed to float just above the ground until he was of his normal height and then he stood like anyone else. “I was nearly back at Imladris when Manwë requested a favour,” he said with a big grin on his face. “It is not really a favour when Manwë asks something as there really is no choice. However, when I am ready he will transport me back. I would like to see Ereolas first though.”

 

We walked over to the healing block. You lay in bed, fast asleep. Your eyes were covered with a thick bandage, as were your feet. “I have very little of Manwë's power left. But I will do what I can.” Mel placed his hands over your eyes and his fingers began to glow. After a while he did the same to your feet. You moaned, but did not wake up. All around lay the injured. Elrond asked me if I could remove you to our apartment so that another could go into your bed. I saw the Lady Erviniae being carried in her husband’s arms. They were leaving to go back to their rooms. His second carried their sleeping baby. Many elves are injured, meleth and according to Elrond a significant number will not survive.

 

I cannot help but feel that if we had not made love in the sea this chain of events would never have happened, and yet when I said this to Mel he dismissed the idea. “You were the catalyst for what would have happened anyway,” he told me. “Janet was always going to do this. She was just waiting for the opportunity. Her plan was to strike the very next time Ulmo sat in chambers with the rest of the Valar. All that happened today was that she struck earlier than she would have done. It is to be wondered why the Valar did not pre-empt her and kill her before she could do any damage, but it seems that Ulmo did not believe her capable of going against him, even though he knew what she had planned and had forbidden her to take action. He thought that would be enough.”

 

“We might not have lost so many if we had not been there to cause the chain of events.”

 

“She planned her strike for mid-summer’s eve when the elves gather on the beaches to celebrate and offer thanks for the fruits of the land and the sea. Ulmo would have been with the rest of the Valar celebrating.” Mel looked at me. “Everyone would have died, including you, and Ereolas, and your elflings. There would have been no escape, and Mithlond would have been no more. You have unwittingly saved many lives by encouraging her to act earlier.”

 

“I wonder where her fëa will go,” I mused. “I would not like to think that she could be reborn.”

 

“Her fëa was thrown into the void as I struck my last blow. She will now meet with Melkor and find much that is stronger and more evil than her. She cannot join forces with him; there is no trust, or alliances, made in a place like that.”

 

I let out a relieved sigh, “It feels so good to be free of the Kraken forever.”

 

“Janet’s nana is the one who holds Middle-earth in shape by wrapping her tight arms like bands around the surface, under the sea, so that it stays round like a ball and doesn’t fall apart. When the last of her species dies, she lays more eggs. One of them will become a Kraken. She lays her eggs as we speak, and now it is only a matter of time. I do not think that Ulmo will be so familiar with the new one. After experiencing Manwë’s anger he will certainly try to regain his favour.” Mel looked at me, his face serious. “It is a measure of Lord Manwë's regard and love for Ereolas that he does not smite him down because of his proclaimed rejection and hatred towards him.”

 

“Ereolas thinks that Lord Manwë hates him,” I replied. “Some awful things have happened to him in the past few years.”

 

“Lord Manwë does not hate Ereolas,” Mel said. “He is in the position of having to fulfil Eru’s song and he dare not go against him. The reason Ereolas was given a substandard body was so that he would die early and be re-embodied to rule in Valinor. Lord Manwë saw the future if he did not die and decided to spare him the pain of living here. I do not think it occurred to Lord Manwë that Ereolas would also experience much joy in this life, as well as the heartbreak, therefore it would be worth living. It was done with the best of intention and misunderstood by all; even his fellow Valar asked him why he was so cruel. He has asked me to tell this to Ereolas, and yet I fear that it will change nothing because my brother is beset with his own pain and it is too much for him to bear.”

 

“It is an explanation too late. Ereolas feels abandoned and betrayed by Lord Manwë, whom he has always served faithfully, even in adversity. I doubt if there is anything he would believe from him right now.”  I did not feel it necessary to tell your brother that I share your opinion, but you are aware of my thoughts on the matter.

 

I took you back to our rooms and Mel came with us. The windows in our bedroom had been smashed by Janet’s tentacles. Her slime dripped from the woodwork and jagged shards of glass. Luckily, there was no water damage so I was able to put you down on our dry bed. Further investigation revealed that every single window in our apartment, on the seaward facing side, were smashed.

 

You lay in our bed fast asleep, waking briefly when Elrond visited to give you more healing energy. He told you to sleep and you did. Mel stayed with you for several hours. He spoke soft words to you and held your hand, as I wrote the events in your journal. He says that you will improve quickly and has speeded your recovery with the last of Manwë’s power that he held within him. Your brother says that he does not have the power to heal; if he did, he would stay with you until you were better. Later that evening our elflings arrived back, unaware that anything was wrong. I did not let them see you. I did not want to frighten them. Mel went into their bedrooms and gave them a kiss goodnight. Cireolas was especially overjoyed to see him. He cried when Mel told him that he would be gone soon. A couple of hours later he told me that it was time. After he kissed you goodbye, he dematerialised.

 

I am tired and disheartened and wish all of this to be over. Now, I am going to get into bed and will hold your sleeping form in my arms. I hope this is of some comfort to you. I can do little more and feel at a loss. I want to do all I can for you, as I was the one who exposed you to danger. I do not think I will ever be free of the guilt.

 


	41. Part 118 – Waking up. Part 119 – On the Edge of Losing my Temper. Part 120 – I AM KING OROPHER!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Círdan writes about when Ereolas woke up and the elflings reaction. Ereolas is recovering and he is not happy. Ereolas loses his temper and says something he may regret.

 

 

 

 

**Part 118 – Waking up**

 

 

Círdan’s POV

 

My only one who I love forever, you awoke the next morning and your fingers immediately went to the bandage on your eyes. I took your hands in mine and kissed your lips.

 

“I thought it might have been a dream,” you said, holding onto me tight. “Please tell me that we are safe.”

 

“Manwë brought Mel back to kill the Kraken; he gave him extra power to do it.”

 

“Is Mel all right?”

 

“He was awesome. He killed Janet and every one of her children. Manwë has dealt with Ulmo’s laxity concerning his pets. I do not know what has happened but Mel assures me it is done.”

 

“How would Mel know?” you asked in a tiny, disbelieving voice.

 

“It was as though he had all of Manwë’s knowledge as well.” I looked at your face, so pale and drawn. “I am so sorry, meleth. How can I make it up to you? I allowed you to be put into so much danger that you became hurt.”

 

“Did you know I would be in danger?”

 

“I had no idea. I was given assurances by Ulmo himself that neither of us, or our offspring, would ever be attacked. It was a mark of his friendship for me. Mel says that Janet was biding her time, and at mid-summer during the beach celebrations she would have killed all of us and destroyed the keep. Ulmo had forbidden her and her children to hurt either of us, but she diverted his attention while her children attacked you so he was not aware.”

 

“I do not blame you.” Your hand touched my face. I leant into it and kissed your palm. “You know in the men’s villages they sacrifice a lamb at mid-summer to their Gods?” I said that I did. “I feel like that lamb.”

 

“Then you are not the only lamb. There are many dead and injured. According to Elrond, many of the injured will die as they are too far gone. We cannot sail to save their lives because Janet smashed our whole fleet of ships.”

 

“My problems are not as bad. At least I have you, and our elflings are unharmed.” You are so brave and selfless, my only one. I could tell that you were in pain but you never complained.

 

Breakfast came and I sat you up, guiding your hands to the mug of tea and your spoon to the porridge. “When are you going to let the elflings see me?”

 

“I thought they might be upset if they saw you like this. I think I should explain that you have hurt your eyes and you have a big bandage on them.”

 

“I think you should.” You guided the mug of tea to your mouth with both hands. I got out of bed, put my house-robe on, then went to their bedroom.

 

The elflings were awake and chattering to one another. They enjoy each other’s company, so they spent the night together instead of their own rooms. I let the nanny change their nappies while I told them that you had hurt your eyes. “He will not be able to see you, but you can see him. You need to be extra well behaved, because he is very tired still and his feet are aching.”

 

Our elflings looked very seriously at me. “Did he get hurt in the war?” Geli asked.

 

“What war?”

 

“The one that happened last night,” Ereodan said. “We heard the sounds in the forest when we were having our picnic.”

 

“Was that noise a war?” Cireolas asked.

 

“Yes,” the twins said in unison.

 

“What is war?” Cireolas looked at me.

 

“It is a battle, like when Ada and I are sparring,” I replied. “But many elves fight when there is war.”

 

I brought the elflings into our bedroom. “Ada,” Geli said to you as she snuggled into your side. “I am really happy to see you. I hope you get better soon.” I took the tray and placed Ereodan on your lap.

 

“I am happy to see you too, sweet one,” you said to her, even though you could not see her at all. You stroked her hair as you held her close.

 

Ereodan put his baby arms around you. “You are very brave, aren’t you, Ada?” He kissed your cheek.

 

“I will be all right.” How brave you are.

 

Cireolas sat beside you and put his little arm around your waist. “I know you can’t see me, Ada, but I am smiling to you.” I held him up to your face and he kissed your cheek. You kissed him back and told him that you loved him.

 

You would not let the babies feed from you until Elrond confirmed that there was no chance of the black liquid that stung your eyes from entering your blood and poisoning your milk. I had not thought of that. You are so clever and caring.

 

Shortly after, Elrond arrived to look at your feet and eyes, so the nanny took our elflings away to get dressed.

 

I tried to brace myself for when he took the bandages away from your eyes, but you heard my sharp intake of breath. “What is wrong?” you asked, panicking.

 

“You have some scarring,” Elrond replied. “It is very deep, and your eyes have turned white because of the burns caused by the black ink that shot into your eyes. Lord Manwë assures me that a new cornea will grow underneath the white covering. You will be able to see again when it wears away.” He touched the skin around the eyes, which were covered in deep burns, so deep I could see the flesh underneath. “Lord Manwë also said that the healing energy he has given me will heal the burns and leave no scarring. I must say they look much better today than they did yesterday.” He put fresh bandages over your eyes. You held my hand as he moved down to your feet and unwrapped them. I did not look as I did not want to make you panic again, but Elrond said they were also healing well and that the bones had already started to knit together. He put fresh bandages on your feet and then held them in his hands. His fingers glowed with healing energy as it travelled through your soles. Next, he did the same to your eyes. You gripped my hand tightly, but you never made a sound.

 

Afterwards you were worn out and slept for a long while. It was the afternoon before you woke; Elrond had visited twice more. I arranged for Orophin to sit with you and then I went to check on the injured elves. I also needed to check the damage to the castle and help those who were in distress. On the way back, I went to see Lady Erviniae, who has a baby iell with the cheekiest face, just like her nana really. I gave her our felicitations, and she asked how you were; she heard from her husband that you were injured. I told her that with Elrond’s help you would recover and that I would pass her message of a speedy recovery onto you. Then I came back to sit with you, and found you asleep again. It is night time now. I am about to get into bed with you and hold you in my arms all night. But first I must write a few more words.

 

From now on, I am not going to let you out of my sight unless you are well guarded. I am going to do everything I can to make sure that you come to no harm and remain safe. Only then can I start to deal with the guilt I feel for leading you into danger. You are right, it is always you and we have to change that.

 

Tomorrow is a new day and that is what we will do.

 

 

 

 

**Part 119 – On the Edge of Losing my Temper.**

 

 

Ereolas’ POV

  

I spent the next two weeks with bandages over my eyes. The white scarring over my eyes fell away as the new cornea grew underneath. For a few days it felt as though sand was in my eyes; it was a constant temptation to rub them. The burns of the black ink, that one Janet’s extinct children squirted in my face, have nearly healed and there is fresh skin under the scabs. Elrond has peeled the smaller ones away and he says that there are no scars.

 

 

My feet are still too tender to walk on for more than a few steps but are healing well. Círdan engaged a couple of the crafts-elves from the town and commissioned a chair with wheels on that can be pushed; it also has a platform that can be raised to support my legs to stop my feet swelling up. He had quite a few made as there are many broken ankles and legs among the elves here. The whole of Mithlond looks as though it is a battle station for the war injured. Very few have escaped without harm.

 

 

My husband has informed everyone that the Kraken attacked us after we enjoyed a night-time swim from our private beach; he thought they did not need to know about us having sex as it is none of their business. Other elves murmured that they had often had sex in the sea and they had never been attacked. Surely that was worse than just having a night-time swim? I looked down. I never had sex in the sea until recently. I feel quite sexually inexperienced now. What with Legolas announcing that Erestor’s sex manual was old hat and there was nothing new in it, even though most of it was virgin territory for me, it now seems that every elf in Mithlond has had sex in the sea, making me feel somewhat inadequate in this life and my former one. When I mentioned this to Círdan, he said that we always enjoy one another and are satisfied afterwards so he did not see that there was a problem. “Remember that some elves will say they have done things when they have not, just because they like to follow the crowd,” he said softly through our connection. Then he added, “Can you really see any of this lot having sex in the sea? Landlubbers the lot of them, too afraid a fish will bite their privates off.” No one had any idea why I started laughing.

 

 

We listened to various representatives from the other elven realms offering financial aid and assistance. Círdan accepted the offer of practical help, for which we will give recompense, but we do not need, or want, the financial aid. We charge taxes in this realm and have a very decent disaster fund, plus no aid comes from other realms without strings attached. Individuals can petition for help from the disaster fund and the payments are normally very generous, especially if there is a sailing involved. Because of Janet’s actions the disaster fund would be hit hard and so would the healing fund. No one pays directly for their healing here, it comes from the taxes. Still, that is what the funds are for. So long as no other disasters happen we should be all right for the future.

 

 

The castle belongs to Círdan and me, even though other’s live here. All the elves pay rent now because the idle rich took advantage of living here free. Of course, the servants pay a tiny fee and the Lords, who chose to stay, pay more. It isn’t a great amount because it is the principle. The idle rich thought they had the right to act as they wanted in mine and Círdan’s home. Making elves pay rent, however little, is a reminder that they rent their room only and have to behave. As the castle is ours, we will pay for the curtain wall to be replaced and the repairs of the keep. We could apply to the disaster fund but as we can afford to pay for the repairs we feel that it would be morally wrong when there are so many who need the money more than us.

 

 

We have spent a lot of time examining petitions for help and listening to members of various committees argue about everything they can think of, and I am tired of it. In the meantime, I have privately commissioned builders, carpenters and glaziers, to put right the damage to the affected rooms in the keep. The elves who live in them cannot wait while some committee takes forever to decide what crafts company is going to do what obviously needs doing anyway. This was an unpopular move. When I was challenged by a member of the Castle Finance Committee, I drew my sword and threatened to kill him. I am not going to be told what to do in my own house, and certainly not by someone who has the benefit of living on the unaffected side of the keep. All the windows were smashed in our bedroom, our private sitting room and in one of the unused elflings rooms, so I had every right to secure the safety of our apartments and that of everyone else’s, especially the Lady Erviniae who had to go back to a waterlogged apartment with a new born baby. I have been told that she went to Lady Aglarien’s apartment, which is at the front of the keep. Because of the crafts-elves I commissioned, her rooms are now ready for her to go back to. Left to the Castle Finance Committee she would have to wait another six months.  I cannot imagine what it must be like for the elves on the lower levels. I have heard that the water damage lower down is considerable.

 

 

Círdan says that my sore feet have given me the disposition of an angry bear. I must admit that I am losing my temper rather quickly just lately, one of the reasons being the injustice I see around me. Círdan and I are excessively wealthy. While we keep control of our personal fortune, we allot an annual amount of money for the running of the castle. We do not have the time or the inclination to indulge in any of the day to day financial matters, so we leave it to the Castle Finance Committee, a group of elves who are experienced in fiscal management. Unfortunately, they think their remit is to save us as much money as they can and turn procrastination into an art form.

 

 

After an awful day, in which I lost my temper several times, Círdan took me back to our rooms. The windows at the far end of the bedroom are still in need of replacing, but for now, they are blocked with material and wooden batons. Luckily it is summer, or else we would be very cold.

 

 

“You look tired,” Círdan said as he helped me onto our bed.

 

 

“I am tired. I am sick of all this arguing about who is going to get what and when it might possibly happen. I am sick of not being able to walk. In fact, I am sick of everything.”

 

 

Círdan held me in his arms. “You reminded me so much of Oropher when you drew your sword and threatened to kill Tadion.” He kissed my neck. “How you turned me on.”

 

 

“Doesn’t take much.” I grinned, feeling more relaxed because I was alone with the one I love.

 

 

“That’s true. I have decided that you are staying in bed for the rest of the evening and you can eat dinner here. Until then you really should get some sleep.”

 

 

“Do I not get any choice in the matter?” I asked irritably, all relaxation going out the window, because now it seems I am not even allowed to make my own decisions.

 

 

“No,” Círdan replied firmly. “You are very tired and have done too much today. Tomorrow you are to relax and not go to any meetings; they are making you too angry and I fear you will kill someone.”

 

 

“Is that a bad thing?” I asked in my most innocent voice.

 

 

Círdan smiled and hugged me close. “You are just like the old Oropher. You grow more like him every day. Although I am not too sure about the slight insanity.”

 

 

I poked him in the ribs, causing him to jump. “I had to do that because I am insane.”

 

 

Círdan grabbed my hand and kissed me gently on the lips. “Get to sleep now. I will wake you later.”

 

 

“Lay with me until I am asleep,” I said, using my best pout. It is no use arguing with Círdan when he is like this. It will happen anyway, and he is doing it because he cares. He isn’t always right but at least he tries.

 

 

He held me in his arms. Every time I tried to speak he put his fingers on my lips and told me to sleep. I closed my eyes as I had nothing else to do and quickly fell into slumber.

 

 

When I awoke it was dark and I could see nothing. All around me was a solid and unrelenting darkness. I spun round to see a huge tentacle behind me, slashing wildly and trying to kill me. I outran it, only to see one of Janet’s children ahead. It taunted me before squirting a jet of slimy black ink at my face. I screamed, my hands scrabbling to remove the poison from my eyes. A tentacle wrapped around my body, filling me with a cold dread. I fought to free myself, but no weapon was on my body. Círdan was calling me. “Keep away, it will get you too,” I yelled. In the end, everything faded and I heard taunting laughter in the distance from a voice I did not know.

 

 

“Wake up, Oropher,” Círdan shouted. He was shaking my shoulder. “You have had another nightmare.”

 

 

I clung onto my husband, aware that I was breathing hard and babbling about a tentacle trying to kill me. He tried to reassure me but I was too far gone to listen. “You need to see, Elrond about these nightmares” Círdan said when I calmed down. “He will know what to do about them.”

 

 

“It is a perfectly normal reaction to trauma,” I said, as I always did when he brought the subject up. “Anyway Elrond is far too busy.”

 

 

“These nightmares are becoming more frequent. Elrond needs to know about them. You are seeing him about them, whether you agree or not.”

 

 

The decision is out of my hands. As I have said before, when Círdan decides a course of action it is pointless arguing with him. It is best to do what he wants and wait until he relaxes a bit. Already I fear that he will cosset me more than he did when I was pregnant. In fact, he has already started. Since the battle with Janet, I have been heavily guarded; my food and drink is tasted before I touch it and all rooms are inspected before I go into them. I feel like a prisoner, even though I know the best of intention is behind it. I am just waiting for the day when he chooses my food and makes me have afternoon naps again, there will be trouble if that happens. All this will stop when I can walk again. It had better, or else I am going to be a very unwilling and argumentative husband!

 

 

We were getting along so well. Ah well! It will pass, unless we kill each other in the meantime.

 

 

 

 

**Part 120 – I AM KING OROPHER!**

 

 

Círdan told Elrond about my nightmares. I tried to explain to Elrond that the bad dreams were due to my recent experience but he seemed most worried indeed.

 

“You hear a strange voice in the background taunting you?” Elrond asked. He had already asked me about it at least five times during the conversation. I felt happier talking to him knowing that Círdan was elsewhere.

 

I nodded, probably in a way that was sarcastic. I am not very tolerant at the moment and it is entirely due to lack of sleep.

 

“I must admit,” Elrond said. “I am at a loss as to what it means. Perhaps the voice is your own mind taunting you for being terrified?”

 

“I have no idea. I thought the nightmares were part of the trauma and would go away on their own.”

 

“I would have agreed, except that you hear a voice laughing and taunting which you have not heard before.” Elrond looked perplexed. “That signifies to me that there is more to this than meets the eye. I may be wrong though.”

 

“I am fine when I am awake. Círdan wakes me when I have a nightmare, so it isn’t as though it lasts very long.”

 

“It seems to me that something is feeding into your fear,” Elrond tried to reassure me by repeating that he could be mistaken.

 

“Elrond,” I said, taking his hand. “You know that I trust you implicitly?”

 

“Yes, of course."

 

“I feel that you are worried for a reason. I know that I am right to think there is more to this, because it is you making the judgement. You see and sense things that others do not.”

 

“Yes. I am extremely worried about this.”

 

“Do you have any idea what it could mean?”

 

“One of the reasons I am so worried is that I have no idea at all.” He looked at me with a great amount of concern. “I want to give you a medicine that we give to the warriors who survive extreme injuries or torture. It makes the mind forget.”

 

“How long for? Forever?”

 

“It works only while asleep.” He looked at me and sighed. “I do not even know if it will work on you. It may lock you in the nightmare.”

 

“Then I should not take it.” I smiled at him so that he did not feel so bad at being unable to help me. “I am sure it will resolve as I get better.”

 

Elrond shook his head. “I hope so.”

 

“Do you think my unhappiness is feeding the nightmares?” I asked, then qualified it by adding that Círdan had me so surrounded by warriors, food tasters and lookouts that I felt a prisoner in my own home. Círdan even has a full time healer following me around, just in case I need him. I do not mind such good looking and well built elves in attendance; however, I do mind the way they fuss around me. They also take their orders directly from Círdan, which says to me that I am not an equal partner but merely the husband of the ruling Lord. If I give an order contrary to his, they just smile and say that they dare not defy my husband. It is most irritating. I am co-ruler of Mithlond for Valar's sake! They even inspect my cutlery before I eat, to make sure no substances are smeared on them; all the time my food is getting cold. I have said to Círdan that the threat of Janet has passed, but he replied that she is not the only one who would try to assassinate me, and added that I was not the most popular elf in the realm. According to Círdan, the elves think that charging rent to live in the castle is outrageous. It matters not that my husband imposed the rents; I am the one being blamed for it.

 

After talking to Elrond we met Círdan in the dinner hall. We sat at the top table, as usual, next to our elflings who sat in their high chairs. Geli and Ereodan have graduated on to ground rice as well as my milk. It is a bit early, but as our little iell pointed out, they sleep better with a solid meal in their tummies. Cireolas had finely chopped ham, with peas, mashed potatoes and parsley sauce.

 

I had a gammon steak in a crunchy citrus glaze. I was just about to cut into it when the food taster dived in before me and took a piece out of the middle. “Leave it alone,” I said angrily, thumping my fist on the table. Círdan looked disapprovingly at me and the whole room went quiet. There is something about cutting into a piece of meat, making the first slice and knowing that it is all yours. No one enjoys a steak when there is a little square hacked out of the centre. When someone else has got to the piece of meat before, it appears adulterated.

 

“I am sorry, your highness,” the food taster said. “I dare not disobey Lord Círdan. It is his orders that I taste your food first.”

 

“If you even touch my food again, my dagger will fix your hand to the table,” I said, seething with rage. My patience had run out and I was about to explode with temper.

 

“Now, now,” Círdan said to me. “I have vowed to protect you from harm and you will let the food taster do his job.” It was the wrong thing to say.

 

“Valar, will I!” I shouted angrily, throwing the whole plate at Círdan, so that his face was dressed in roast potatoes, a selection of steamed vegetables, pork steak and runny orange liqueur gravy. “I have had enough of this.” I slammed my fist down on the table; it broke in half and everyone looked shocked as their plates slid towards the centre and fell between the newly created gap where the wood had broken.

 

A little voice in the background, probably belonging to Ereodan, said, “Look at Ada, he is my hero.”  I was too far gone to pay much attention. I heard the livid protestations of Círdan, who is never slow to anger, and it fed my own to a degree where my next action would make the situation irrevocable.

 

Drawing my sword, I shouted, “Manwë, Lord of Airs, give me what is mine and still owing.” I pointed my sword to the ceiling and shouted. “I AM OROPHER. I AM KING OROPHER. I DEMAND MY OLD SELF BACK. I REFUSE TO LIVE IN THIS TWILIGHT EXISTENCE. I DEMAND MY RIGHTFUL INHERITANCE. IT IS MINE!”

 

My body was held as if by preternatural force. Lightning streamed from all over and flooded through me. No one in the room moved. Manwë walked towards me. I laid my sword down on the table and it occurred to me for a fleeting moment that all the others in the room were frozen, including Círdan and our elflings.

 

“Why do you do these things to me?” I asked Manwë, my voice breaking. “How have I offended the Valar to suffer so much?”

 

Manwë did not immediately answer; he placed his arms around me and drew me into a tight embrace, as if he truly cared.  He stroked my hair and guided my head down to his shoulder. “I do not hate you,” he said. “You are beloved of Lord Eru and all the Valar. Such love can carry an extra burden, but the gifts we give you are supposed to make up for any trials that this life brings.”

 

“What gifts? Is the future death of my iell a gift? Was being attacked by Janet and her children a gift? When I was re-embodied, you said that I would once again be Oropher but even though I was stronger and physically more able, I was still very much weaker and smaller than when I was my former self. I did not complain, but I can no longer live like this anymore. It is too much.”

 

“We could not afford to let you be as powerful as you once were,” Manwë replied. He continued to hold my head on his shoulder. “You were a mighty and powerful ruler; even the High-King Gil-Galad dared not cross you, and he was your lover. Círdan did not dare to cross you, and he was your soul mate. You were simply far too powerful to be let loose again.”

 

“You gave me that power,” I accused as I relaxed with his touch.

 

“We gave you the greatest gifts and now you have them back again,” Manwë looked at me. “I once told you that if ever you proclaimed yourself as King then you would die, but all has changed. I give you back now all that you were before and more.”

 

“I cannot take anymore of being Ereolas,” I said softly. “It is beyond me. I am subject to endless assassination attempts and even sea monsters hold an unreasonable hatred for me.”

 

“It does not matter anymore,” Manwë said. “Look how your body has fallen to the floor.”

 

 


	42. Part 121 – I am Oropher Unbound! Part 122 – Oropher Versus the Kraken. Part 123 – The Relationship Between an Elf and His Willy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ereolas prepares to fight that which terrifies him most. Ereolas fights the Kraken. Ereolas muses on an elf's relationship with his willy and recounts the day when Mel refused to have his one pierced.

**Part 121 – I am Oropher Unbound!**

 

 

My body lay unmoving on the floor.

 

“What about my elflings?” I cried, allowing my elleth type feelings to surface in an appropriate display of grief. “Will I never see them again?”

 

“You will have to fight to come back here,” Manwë said. “You will have to physically fight that which terrifies you. When you defeat your fear, you will once again be King Oropher in all your glory. You will have earned the right to be known as such.”

 

“Why have the rules changed?” I asked, thinking privately that I had to fight for absolutely everything in my life. “Before, if I proclaimed that I was king, it was the guarantee of certain death, you said so when I was re-embodied the last time. Why is it not now? Not that I wanted to die. I just lost my temper.”

 

“Eru’s song changed when Janet attacked,” Manwë replied as if delivering bad news, “and so it affects you also.”

 

“How?”

 

“Because it is up to you to kill her fëa or lose your life in Middle-earth.” Manwë held my shocked face between his hands. “King Oropher would have shown no fear in front of the Kraken. He would have fought with all his might, knowing he could be killed at any moment. He might be terrified inside, but he would never let it show.  Oropher considered that it was his duty to protect his subjects, or die trying to defend them, and he never let them down. You have to think like him once again to fully assume his being. At the moment you think like Ereolas. Be who you once were and you will succeed. From now on, you are Oropher, the courageous one. You are: His Most Gracious and Supreme Highness, King Oropher the Magnificent, Illustrious and Shining Star of all Arda. You are King Oropher. You are Unbound!”

 

“I do not know how to be him anymore,” I said in sudden realisation that I was indeed nothing like King Oropher, but still in the mindset of Ereolas.

 

“Ereolas tempered your personality,” Manwë explained. “He held you from excess, but now it is time to shed this existence and become the mighty king and warrior you once were. You need excess and overkill for the trial ahead and Oropher had plenty of it.”

 

“How do I shed that which would hold me back? I need your help. I do not feel that I can do this myself. Surely with your professed love for me, you will help me in this.” I must admit I did not sound hopeful. In spite of the pep-talk, it seemed that Manwë was setting me up for a rather nasty death as the repayment of my rejection of him. Beloved of the Valar, indeed!

 

“I will remove Ereolas and make you Oropher in all his completeness,” Manwë said to me. “If you defeat the Kraken, then you will come back as Oropher. Ereolas will always be with you as he tempers you and stops your excess, he is your better nature and your conscience, you cannot live without him.”

 

“Am I two different people?” I asked, feeling slightly confused.

 

“No,” Manwë replied. “Ereolas is Oropher and Oropher is Ereolas, there is no separation, except in this one instance where I will allow it to increase your chances of survival. We want you to win this battle, because in defeating Janet you will also defeat Melkor’s link to Middle-earth.”

 

 “Is he the voice I hear in my nightmares?” I already knew the answer.

 

“He has a link to you because the terror of Janet remains in your mind; a stream of pure fear binds your fëa close to hers. He has found a way to exploit this to torture you in your dreams, despite being in the void. We need her fëa destroyed to break the link. If the link increases in strength then the future of Middle-earth and Valinor will be at stake. Eru has sung that you are to be the hero, and so it shall pass. If you fail, then I can break the link, but Eru has sung that you are to be the one who tries first. Even if you die, you will be a hero.” Of course, that makes all the difference, doesn’t it? Such a comfort Manwë is to me in what will probably be my final moments.

 

“What if I fail?” I asked in a small voice, hoping that Manwë would not give me an answer that contained no hope. “Will my fëa stay here forever?”

 

“Then you will go to Valinor as King Oropher instead of staying in Middle-earth,” Manwë replied. “I will sever the link as I take your fëa.”

 

“Which is what you have wanted all along,” I accused.

 

“No,” Manwë said as if trying to keep his patience. “I thought that being the ruler of your own kingdom in Valinor would save you from the pain of this existence, but I had not counted the extreme joys you would experience as Ereolas. I would want you to go back to Middle-earth, if you really prefer the trials and miseries of life there, instead of the supreme happiness of being the ruler of your own realm in Valinor. Know that Eru sung two strands of existence for you; I tried to give you the easier one.” He touched my lips with his fingers and I felt as though I lost a part of myself as the form of Ereolas left my being.

 

“I do prefer living in Middle-earth,” I said. Manwë smiled. My old power was within me. The crippling fear left my body and I knew I could win. There was no questioning from the part of me that was once Ereolas because it was gone. It took moments to think of a careful and decisive strategy to defeat the coming peril. I could not consider that I would lose. I am Oropher; I am never beaten. “I am King wherever I rule,” I said to Manwë. “I am King Oropher, with or without a kingdom, and I will prevail. Lead the way.”

 

The dinner hall changed to the place of my nightmares. “I will be beside you,” Manwë said. “I am bound not to physically help you, but I can give you some of my power.” He then looked at me, his face looking as though it dared to hope. “If all else fails, I will take your fëa back with me; I promise you that.”

 

“I thought Námo took all fëa,” A huge tentacle waved from side to side in the distance.

 

“Not even Námo will walk within the Void.”

 

I grinned, while looking into the distance. “JANET!” I roared, drawing my burning sword and long dagger of flaming fire. “I SUMMON YOU. I AM YOUR NEMESIS!”

 

“Remember,” Manwë said as a voice in my mind. “I am with you, as I was with Melpomaen.”

 

My legs changed into a fish tail and I balanced on the fins, which were once my feet. The scales were slippery and would ensure that the tentacles would not be able to grip hold of my lower area. My hair lengthened into long braids ringed with spikes at the end and up the centre of each plait. The fins and tail scales were as sharp as freshly honed blades, and my finger nails elongated into vicious talons with extremely thin serrated edges. Finally my teeth changed and fangs appeared so that I looked like a particularly ferocious tiger. I was quite the one to bring home to a prospective nana-in-law!

 

I snarled at the approaching tentacle. “JANET. SHOW YOURSELF AND PREPARE TO DIE.”

 

A face appeared in front of me, perilously close to the tentacle. “Oropher, please help me,” Manwë seemed to say. “They have caught me. I am trapped. Rescue me first. I am begging you.”

 

I looked around and Manwë was not there.

 

 

 

 

**Part 122 – Oropher Versus the Kraken**

 

 

The face was Melkor's. He looked as beautiful as Manwë; however his eyes and mouth were marked by his malignant cruelty, whereas the Lord of Airs’ face was as guileless as the day of his creation. “I know you for who you are,” I shouted to the face. “You are not Manwë, you are a pathetic illusion. Go back to whence you came.”

 

The face changed. Melkor assumed a derisive expression. “I can go back to where I came from, but can you?” The howls of sardonic laughter gave way to ones of triumphant expression as Janet’s huge red eye came into vision. Her tentacles flew at me. I was ready. My body grew to meet her size and I hacked at the tentacles that sought to encompass me.

 

“You cannot win,” Janet taunted. “You screamed like a baby when I last saw you, Ereolas, and you will scream again as you beg me for mercy.”

 

“I am not Ereolas.” I grinned as I hacked a tentacle off. She grew another one almost immediately.

 

“Yes, you are,” she mocked. “Just because you have been given a slippery tail it doesn’t fool me at all. You are still the weak coward you always were.”

 

“I AM OROPHER!” I said in a loud, commanding voice, which shook the foundations upon which we stood. In my head, I heard Manwë congratulate me. He said that I had caused Melkor’s scornful smile to falter for a brief moment.

 

“So what?” Janet seemed uninterested. “You are still Kraken food.”

 

“There is a new Kraken. You are the kraken no longer. You are merely the repulsive ex-lover of a Vala who regrets ever knowing you. You are nothing.”

 

“I am warning you, Ereolas.” Janet did her best to look even more threatening. “I will kill you horribly.” She managed to wrap a tentacle around my face, so I bit into it hard, with my fangs and ultra-sharp teeth. She howled and withdrew what was left of it. “You are cheating. I am sure that is not allowed.”

 

We fought for many hours. Several times time she drew me into her mantle only to release me with a howl of pain as I rent holes in the umbrella like membrane with the spikes on my braids. I managed at one point to slice a section of her mouth away. Several rows of sharp teeth fell to the floor. I kicked them away, expressing my contempt for her. Melkor cheered her on, sending taunting abuse my way, even though Janet did not possess the upper hand anymore. He also gave her directions.

 

Had Janet been a more strategic fighter and not just relying on sheer size to win, we could still be fighting now. I feinted a strike to one side, so that she expected me to hack at her on the other; however, I did not. It is an old trick and one she fell for. It is easily done because an attack can come from either side when a feint is made, and so one has to decide which direction the sword is likely to follow on the next move. Melkor swiftly called to her that I would strike the same side, but she decided that I would strike the opposite side and moved accordingly. She lunged at my sword arm, leaving my knife arm free, and her ugly red eye fully exposed. I threw the knife and it hit her eye, splitting it open so the liquid contents gushed all over the floor. Janet gave a long drawn out, howling scream as I hacked wildly with my sword and cut her tentacles off at the base. Soon she was only a head and I slashed it into many pieces in my fury. Then I threw my long knife at Melkor’s smirking face, not thinking of any possible consequences. It hit the middle of his forehead. He laughed.

 

“You cannot kill me,” he jeered. “As you said before, I am merely an illusion.” I saw his eyes flicker with amusement. “You are still linked to me and I will not let you go back. Janet was just a diversion; you were bound to me all the time and will remain so.”

 

It was then I saw the link trailing as a hair-fine single thread from my fëa, extending into the distance. Janet’s blood had sprayed in the air and landed on what was previously invisible. My knife lay abandoned on the floor but the sword was still in my hand.

 

“An elf cannot cut the link,” Melkor sneered. “You do not have the power, and if you did it would kill you.”

 

“Melkor, you are the Lord of all lies. I refuse to die,” I roared. With all my might I brought the sword down on the solid thread, snapping it in two.

 

Everything disintegrated when the thread spilt. I found myself tumbling through space, wondering if I would ever land. Manwë caught me and held me to himself. “The connection through the void is no more,” he said. “You have won.”

 

I could not think. I could not talk. It was as if I were in a warm, drugged dream and floating outside the confines of time and being. “Ereolas,” I heard voices and wondered who they were shouting to. My head seemed to shake from side to side and my cheeks stung. “Ereolas,” the voices called again.

 

My tail was no more and I was nude. I did not care about anything and smiled because I had defeated the monster and overcome my fear. I felt as though I could conquer anything.

 

“You have to go back now,” Manwë said, smiling for all he was worth. “So you know that I have kept my word about you being King Oropher, you will appear as he was last seen when you go back into your body. You are him from now on, even though you are Ereolas too.” I felt my fëa gain something indefinable, something that gave me the will to hold myself and be a better person; that something was the Ereolas part of my being and now I felt completely whole.

 

“Ereolas!” The sharp stinging on my cheeks was relentless.

 

I moaned. “Stop hitting me.”

 

“Thank the Valar,” I heard Círdan say. “I was convinced he was dead.”

 

“What is happening?” Elrond said uncertainly. “He is growing and his clothes are changing.”

 

I tried to open my eyes, fighting for full consciousness. I was tired as the battle had raged for many hours, so it would have been easy to fall into the arms of slumber. It seemed as if less than a minute had passed on Middle-earth. I could hear the sound of cutlery being used, signifying that dinner was still in progress.

 

“He carries Guruthos. It was broken in the Last Battle,” Elrond said in wonder. “I would recognise his old sword anywhere.”

 

 “Dagnir too,” I heard Círdan say about my long knife. “I wonder what enchantment this is.”

 

“No doubt, it is the Valar’s doing,” Elrond replied. “Ereolas is now Oropher. What was kept in rein has now been set free.”

 

I knew that Manwë had kept his word, but that was not all, I was wearing the armour I wore in Battle of Dagorlad, the one where I died. On my head was Oropher's circlet; the one that my ion Thranduil took from me when I was dead and would not give back when I demanded its return as reborn Ereolas.

 

“Ereolas wake up,” Elrond said. “Come back to us.”

 

I groaned because I was so tired; however, I had to let everyone know that I was all right. “Círdan,” I said with eyes half open. “I am all right.” I looked at Elrond as well and told him that I would have no more nightmares. “I am so tired.” My eyes closed.

 

One of the last things I heard before fallen into a deep sleep was Círdan telling Elrond how heavy I was now. They took my armour and boots off and underneath were the leggings and shirt I had worn when going into battle the day I died in my past life as Oropher. I was lifted up and nestled my sleepy head against Círdan’s dinner covered chest. I felt momentarily guilty about throwing it at him but I told my Ereolas self to be quiet, smiled happily and allowed sleep to take me.

 

According to Elrond, Círdan was overcome with awe and told him that my old self really was back this time and not the halfway person I had been before. He added quickly that he had loved me just as much before, but now I was extra special. I was just as he remembered me, and now he could shed the guilt of many years because I truly lived again.

 

I am Oropher and I am back!

 

 

 

**Guruthos** = The Shadow of Death

**Dagnir** = Slayer

 

From the [Hiswelókë's Sindarin dictionary](http://www.jrrvf.com/hisweloke/sindar).

 

 

 

 

**Part 123 – The Relationship Between an Elf and His Willy.**

 

 

I woke the next morning feeling refreshed. Círdan was looking lovingly into my face, which made me jump. Opening one’s eyes and seeing two staring at you, no matter how benevolent, is always a bit unsettling.

 

“Meleth,” Círdan said, his eyes shining with excitement and lust. “It has been a long time, but now you are fully back.”

 

Right, well, I should start as I mean to go on. “Yes, it has been a long time,” I licked my lips and grinned. “Prepare yourself as I would have you right now.” I handed him the oil from my bedside table. “I want to watch.” I kissed the inside of his knee as I raised his leg and held it against his chest.

 

He pushed two oiled fingers inside and held them there until he was relaxed. I smiled most lasciviously while Círdan grinned. “I cannot wait, Meleth,” he said softly to me. “Have me now. Give me all you have got.”

 

I drew his other leg up against his chest and teased him by lightly stroking his inner thighs, before pushing in a small way and holding myself there until he relaxed further. One of the benefits of being fully Oropher is that my willy is even larger; it was a good size before but now it is enormous! Still, whilst it is fun to have an intimidating arousal, extra care needs to be taken when pushing in. Already, Círdan was grimacing. I held still so that he could become accustomed to my girth and pushed in only when he said he was ready.

 

“I had forgotten how big you were,” he groaned through clenched teeth.

 

It is not as though I am one to boast about dick sizes, but a male elf feels a certain affection for his willy. It is a major source of pleasure, and having a big one fills the average ellon with a certain sense of pride. I don’t know why; it is an ellon thing. If the day has been rough, one can forget for a short while, with the ever agreeable willy ready to fill the breach and lead one into mindless bliss for a few short moments. It makes all the difference. Not that this has anything to do with the above, but if ever a missile hurtles towards an ellon, such as a kicked ball or a booted foot, his hand flies straight to cover the front of his leggings; we protect that area above all because that it how much we value it. A female elf always covers her face or her breasts. I am informed that it is a sure way to tell the sex of a dwarf, although I cannot help but wonder who might be foolish enough to risk their life in the pursuit of such knowledge.

 

As the law in Mithlond dictates, my willy has Círdan’s name tattooed on its length and he has mine tattooed on his. However, I am looking at mine as I enter him. His name has disappeared, probably because my body is now the one I had as Oropher, just before I died when we were only betrothed and not yet married. I expect he will insist I get it redone. It is an old law that was invented by my fluffy headed one, in what must have been a moment of madness, to stop married elves from straying. So far as I know, ellith are not tattooed and I expect they feel rather relieved about it.

 

In the Greenwood, and later on in Mirkwood, the laws were just as crazy. My willy is pierced, my ears are and so are both my nipples. It is a rite of passage thing brought in by my crazy parents. Of course, Thranduil and my parents made Círdan have it done before we married, as the law states that those who marry a Mirkwood resident have to be pierced too. After we married, I pierced all the parts that Alatáriël needed doing, and then I spent much time kissing her better and holding her because one of the piercings had made her cry. Traditionally, a healer would do it but I was not going to allow anyone other than myself to touch my wife’s most intimate parts.

 

I remember when Mel was young; he was forty years old when Erestor took him to the healers to be pierced. My parents had spent the previous night discussing what would happen and my brother seemed to be agreeable. When he was inside the healing room, with the healer approaching him, Mel screamed the place down and became hysterical. “I will not have my ears and private parts mutilated so horrifically,” he screeched in true drama queen style. Erestor sent word to Glorfindel so that he could offer Mel some encouragement, after my brother went absolutely crazy, lashing out at everyone with his dagger and sword, yelling that he would kill whoever came near him.

 

“You do not have to have it done,” Erestor said to him and held his arms out to give him a cuddle. “Come now. Calm down and you can come back when you are ready.”

 

“You can bugger off,” Mel replied. “You brought me here and I don’t trust you one bit now.”

 

“Come with me,” Glorfindel said, holding out his hand. He had observed Mel for the past few seconds and, no doubt, he had also heard him along the corridor. “We can go into the garden and play with your kite.”

 

As expected, Mel was more agreeable to this course of action. Still keeping his sword and knife drawn, he sidled out of the room before running swiftly out of the healing block altogether, not stopping until he was in the garden. Glorfindel followed him outside with the kite and told him to put his weapons away. “Let us eat some ice cream first.” He handed Mel a bowl and a spoon. “It is a hot day and you need to calm down.”

 

They sat on the grass eating their ice cream, with Mel talking about how he was never going to have any piercings done ever in his life, when he keeled over to the side. The strawberry sauce was drugged, because that is the part that little kids, who need comforting because they are scared, like to eat first. Glorfindel left the bowls and kite on the grass, picked my brother up and took him back to the healing rooms. When Mel woke up he was a little tender but the job was done, and he got lots of presents for being so brave. Erestor and Glorfindel said nothing about Mel’s previous behaviour, so that he did not lose face. One day he would be expected to lead other elves. The ability to endure pain was a quality much admired because one day it might be needed when fighting in battle. A Prince is expected to lead his warriors whether he receives wounds or not, only as a last resort is command transferred. Strangely enough, Mel was indeed a fearless leader and fighter. Occasionally he was wounded, but he never whined about it or went hysterical like he did when he had to have his bits pierced.

 

I see that I have digressed; I tend to do when old memories surface. I continued to push in very slowly, taking my time and using the utmost patience until I was fully sheathed. I pulled out slightly and covered myself with more oil to make it easier for my love, making small movements until Círdan was completely relaxed. Then I was more forceful. Leaning forward to kiss his lips and caress his beautiful face, I felt him relax even more. This was my cue to speed up and slam into him as my passion for my only one increased beyond the limits I could endure. He was lost in his own bliss, but still managed to stroke my body and respond to my deep kissing. My breathing, harsh and rapid, increased with my speed. Inside a whole well of ecstasy mounted to an incredible pressure until the bliss shot through me in waves. I held onto Círdan for dear life as I slowed down, pumping every last bit of my essence into him. After kissing his lips, I removed myself from his body.

 

“Lay on your front,” Círdan ordered. He quickly oiled himself and entered me in one smooth glide. I lay sated and relaxed, sinking into the bed. It was not long before he had come inside me and slumped down onto my back.

 

Círdan stayed lying on top of me for a while, all the time telling me that he loved me. In the end he moved off to my side and I turned to face him. “Are you happy?”

 

“Blissfully so.” I kissed the end of his nose.

 

“I love you.” He stroked my ear, causing me to giggle.

 

“I love you too my only one.” He asked what happened when I was away and how I had changed to my old self, my actual old self and not the one the Valar had said was my old self thinking that neither of us would notice. I told him all that he wanted to know.

 

“Guess what we are going to do this afternoon,” he said to me, grinning with delight.

 

“I don’t know.” I thought he had something delicious planned.

 

“We are going to tattoo my name back on your willy.”

 

Damn! I thought he hadn’t noticed.

 

 


	43. Part 124 – Sulky Círdan and Cheeky Elflings. Part 125 – The Presentation. Part 126 – The Biggest Surprise of Círdan's Life.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cirdan and Oropher argue. Lady Erviniae and her husband present their iell to the court. Lady Aglarien has some news. Ereolas threatens to leave Círdan. The elflings show their paintings to their adas.

**Part 124 – Sulky Círdan and Cheeky Elflings.**

 

  


“No, Meleth,” I said to my husband as he held my hardness in his hand. “It does not hurt.”

 

“Tell me if it does,” Círdan carried on pricking the ink into the skin of my willy so that his name would be tattooed on it forever. It is a stupid law that he refuses to get rid of because he thinks it would encourage infidelity if he did. He says that the tattoo is a permanent symbol, whereas a wedding ring can be taken off if a married elf intends to seduce a young virginal elf and break their heart. No more angsty love stories out of the library for him.

 

“Just get on with it,” I demanded. It did hurt and I was becoming irritable; however, I was not going to let him know that. “It is nearly lunchtime and I am hungry.”

 

“Stop moving,” Círdan barked. “I don’t want my name to go on wonky.”

 

“Who is going to see it?” I felt as if I was talking to a rather thick witted child.

 

“Well, I will. I want to be proud of my handiwork.”

 

The tattoo can only be done when the willy is hard, as it tends not to be so successful on a soft one. I felt my one going limp. Círdan accused me of doing it deliberately. “Just put the inks away and do it later on,” I snapped. “It isn’t as though I am going to deflower a young virgin because there is only half a name on it.”

 

“It is the principle of the thing. We have to be seen to uphold the law as its rulers.”

 

“Shall I wop my dick out in front of the court then?” I said in a rather loud voice. “Shall I show them that I am not a lawbreaker?”

 

“Don’t be silly.” Círdan sniffed. “If you cannot say anything worthwhile then keep your mouth shut.”

 

We argued like cat and dog for the next hour; it was like old times really. In the end, Círdan stormed off shouting that I was impossible. Ah well! He has the rest of eternity with someone who is impossible. Should be fun.

 

This morning I went to see the elflings, happily they slept in during my fun time topping Círdan. Their nannies do not wake them in the morning; we prefer them to wake in their own time. Rarely do they sleep past seven o’clock, but today they woke at nine.

 

“Ada, you got bigger,” Cireolas said. Ereodan winked at me and gave me a saucy little grin, leaving me thoroughly discomforted. Geli asked if I had grown because I beat the shit out of the monster.

 

“Young Ladies do not say shit,” I told her, quite firmly. “It is a naughty word to say.”

 

“Why is it naughty?” She gave me a look of complete innocence.

 

“Because it is a swear word, and only to be used in extreme emergencies to gain attention." I decided to give her a practical example. “If you fell down a well and shouted that word, then it would be perfectly acceptable because other elves would notice that a young Lady was saying a very bad word and would want to find out why. Then they would rescue you. If you constantly say swear words they would ignore you because they would think you were being foul mouthed as usual.”

 

“You should say poo,” Cireolas said, and went back to chewing his toe nails.

 

“All this not being allowed to swear,” Ereodan piped up. “It’s all a load of bollocks really, isn’t it?”

 

“That is another word elflings are not to say,” I said sternly. It had no effect; my elflings started giggling, and when one starts they all do. “What is Orophin going to do with you today?” I hoped to divert their attention.

 

“We are going to paint,” Geli said, her eyes shining. “I am going to paint my name.”

 

“We can put it on the wall next to Cireolas’ painting.”

 

“I am going to paint the Battle of the Last Alliance,” Ereodan said, without a flicker of sarcasm on his face. “You know that painting of Ereinion, Oropher and Elendil?” I nodded. “Well I am going to do a copy of that.”

 

“Right,” I said, holding my laughter. “I think I would like to see that.”

 

“I am going to do a painting of me and Unca Mel,” Cireolas told me. “I love Unca Mel.”

 

My little ion really does love Mel; he misses him when he is gone and is always overjoyed to see him. It is like hero worship, he loves him so much. When Mel and I were elflings there were many, ‘Me and Glorfindel,’ paintings in the library at Imladris, and also in the library in Mirkwood whenever he visited. I am informed by Mel that there are now, ‘Me with Mel and Glorfindel’ paintings now. Both are loved by elflings because they are so nice to them. Elflings seem to like me too. I wonder why.

 

I helped the nannies bathe and dress the elflings. Geli selected her pink shoes with bunny rabbits on, bunny rabbit socks, a dress with bunny rabbits on, and her bunny rabbit cardigan. To top it off, she insisted on wearing her bunny ears circlet. Ereodan wanted to wear his all in one baby suit with the forest animals on, and Cireolas chose to wear the Hello Vampire outfit that Mel had bought for him on his last visit. He virtually lives in it, and it is so well made there is no hope of it disintegrating through wear for a long time yet.

 

We all trooped down to the, ‘play as you learn’ rooms. The elflings argued with one another all the way there.

 

Orophin grinned when he saw me. “I heard you got bigger,” he said. “Your face still looks the same though.”

 

“My face was always the same.” I grinned. “It was my body that was different.”

 

“I bet Círdan cannot believe his luck,” Oropher chuckled. I smiled even wider. “Go on you, get out so I can teach your kids.” Orophin opened the playroom door and I sped through, immediately glad to be rid of my fractious elflings.

 

I sauntered off to take mid-morning tea with my husband. Afterwards, we went for a walk along the broken curtain wall, which is still being argued over by the Castle Finance committee. The curtain wall could not be accessed until the terraces were repaired, so I hired craftsmen to do it from the town, which made me terribly unpopular with the committee as I gave them the bill. They look after a set amount that Círdan and I set aside every year out of our own money to pay for repairs to the Castle, and so they had no choice but to pay. One would think it was their personal money that they were paying out and not ours from the way they go on.

 

After inspecting the ruins we went back to our apartment, so that Círdan could continue to tattoo his name on my willy. It means that we will not have sex until the swelling goes down. He is not topping me if I am too sore to top him. I see a lot of book reading in the next few days.

 

Anyway, we have argued and Círdan is sulking as he always does. This afternoon we will sit on our thrones and listen to petitions by courtiers. The Lady Erviniae is to officially present her baby iell to the Court for our blessing. It is also a legal requirement; the presentation will give her baby the right to her title and to live here and enjoy the protection of the ruling Lords. I also believe that the Lady Aglarien wishes to announce something to the court. I know not what it is.

 

Let us hope that Círdan has stopped sulking by then or else the situation will be most awkward.

 

 

 

 

**Part 125 – The Presentation**

  


 

 

Can you believe it? Círdan is sitting on his throne, next to mine, and ignoring me because he is still sulking. How childish.

 

 

 

The Lady Erviniae and her husband, Lord Silimaurë, have presented their little iell to the Court. They have named her Mélawen, after Lady Mélawen who was killed by the Kraken. It makes sense; the little baby carries her fëa, so they do not want her to grow up confused.  Círdan did the obligatory speech and blessed the baby, then he handed her to me. I thanked him, because I am not a sulky type, and smiled at the tiny elfling. She smiled back and burped, which made me laugh.

 

 

 

“Isn’t she one of the sweetest babies you ever saw?” I said to Círdan, knowing he did not want to talk to me.

 

 

 

Etiquette demanded that he give me an answer. “She is very sweet indeed and will make a wonderful playmate for our little iell.”

 

 

 

I could almost hear the venom as he spat his reply; although others would have said that he seemed very gracious. “What are these?” I said to little Mélawen, squeezing her toes. “Look five little pink toes!” She let out a squeal of baby laughter. “Is Uncle Oropher going to eat them?” I kissed her little foot, which made her giggle and flap her arms up and down. “Quick, hide your foot so that Uncle Círdan doesn’t see it, he will want to kiss it too.” I tucked her foot under her dress and blew a raspberry on her cheek, which made her squeal loudly and her little hands flapped up and down so hard she would have taken off if she had been a bird. “She is adorable,” I said to Erviniae, who was delighted that her iell had laughed so much and not cried.

 

 

 

Círdan handed Silimaurë the scroll, which detailed Mélawen’s legal title and her rights of residence in the castle, including the realm of Lindon and Mithlond. Erviniae and her husband withdrew to the courtiers’ seats with Mélawen, and Círdan motioned for the Lady Aglarien and her husband Lord Angaráto to approach our thrones.

 

 

 

“My Lord,” Angaráto said as he bowed low to both of us. “My wife, the Lady Aglarien, is with child. We are to be the parents of an iell in ten months time.”

 

 

 

“Congratulations,” Círdan said with a smile.  It is a formality that a courtier’s pregnancy is announced so we can ensure the facilities for birth, moving the couple to larger rooms if need be, and for the legal scrolls to be worked on.

 

 

 

“Yes, indeed, congratulations,” I said, full of happiness for them. “No sending you to Lothlórien now as an ambassador.” I had once threatened to send Agie and Erviniae to the Golden Wood as ambassadors because of their cheekiness and it had turned into a long running joke.

 

 

 

“No, My Lord,” Agie said as she curtseyed. She is very formal in public but completely the opposite in private. I would be very lucky to be called, ‘My Lord’ then. She has all manner of names for me and none of them polite. Still, she is a very good friend, as is Erviniae who is always trying to pinch my bottom.

 

 

 

“I am sure our little girls will get along famously and be fast friends,” boring old Círdan said.

 

 

 

“Yes, my Lord,” Angaráto said, grinning from ear to ear. “I wonder if they will be as infamous as the elflings, Aglarien and Erviniae.”

 

    


 

Everyone in the court remembered or had heard stories about those two little girls. Once when I was on a visit to Mithlond and was being formally greeted by Círdan, I felt two little hands holding my fingers. We looked down.

 

 

 

“He is our friend as well!” Agie said indignantly to Círdan, as he looked down at her. “He hasn’t just come to see you, you know!”

 

 

 

“He said he would take us to tea when he got back, didn’t you?” Erviniae said loudly as the courtiers politely laughed from their mortified faces. “We have been looking forward to seeing you again,” she said to me with a cheeky smile.

 

 

 

Their parents looked as though they wished the ground could swallow them whole, and so to save everyone’s face I picked both girls up and told them that we would indeed go to tea and we would do so straight away. They insisted that Círdan did not come with us. I laughed and told them that he would miss me if he did not.

 

 

 

“We won’t be able to tell you all the naughty things we have done,” Agie said in a most conspiratorial tone. “Lord Círdan will put us in naughty girl’s prison.”

 

 

 

“I was in naughty girl’s prison, once,” I told them. They looked at me in awe.

 

 

 

“Was it really horrid?” Erviniae asked.

 

 

 

“They make you eat poo sandwiches and drink goat’s wee.” It is so much fun winding little elflings up.

 

 

 

“Really?” Agie said with wide, innocent eyes.

 

 

 

“Then they made me eat live snails and slugs. My mouth stayed slimy for ten years.”

 

 

 

“Lord Círdan threatened to put us both in naughty girl’s prison because we wrote our names on his statue,” Erviniae told me.

 

 

 

“And we drew tits where his chest is, and a moustache, and we gave him horns which we made out of modelling dough,” Agie gleefully added.

 

 

 

“We drew a willy on him too,” Erviniae told me, her little eyes shining with mischief.

 

 

 

“I would wait until he has forgotten before being naughty again.” Both girls asked for how long. “For at least six months.” I watched them counting on their fingers and then they argued with each other about what month it would be before they could be naughty again. I settled it by telling them.

 

 

 

“You are really clever,” little Ervy said admiringly.

 

 

 

We sat down and had cake and tea while their parents hovered nervously outside the doorway. Círdan had decided not to join us as he felt it was obvious he was not wanted. After tea, I took them outside the hall and gave them to their nanas.  “Tea again in a couple of days,” I said, grinning as they did their little girl curtseys and politely thanked me for a pleasant half hour, and would of course be available for tea with me in a couple of days time.

 

 

 

Such fond memories. When I married I was only fifty, and they were my first official friends. When I was an elfling and co-ruler they were friends as well, but when I became Círdan’s consort it became official; he likes everything to be official and recorded and has an inordinate love of bureaucracy.

 

 

 

The presentations were over. Círdan asked the rest of the court if there was anything they wished to say. Several offered felicitations to the two sets of parents on their joy and one courtier asked when the curtain wall was going to be repaired.

 

 

 

“As soon as the Castle Finance Committee decides which of the craftsmen in the town will receive the contract,” Círdan replied. “We do not need to fear invasion from the sea anymore,” he added, a little too smugly in my opinion. The courtier thanked Círdan and stepped back to the seats.

 

 

 

“I am considering awarding the contract myself, if they do not get a move on,” I said to the assembled courtiers.

 

 

 

Círdan’s head spun round. “Pardon?”

 

 

 

“It seems to me that the Castle Finance Committee is not moving fast enough. I fear for anyone walking along the terraces; they could fall off the side of the mountain. My conscience could not bear that anyone lost their life because the curtain wall had remained in a state of disrepair.” I looked lovingly at him. “If they cannot decide within a week then we should sack them and run them through with our swords.”

 

 

 

Everyone gasped and the room went deadly quiet. “Quite,” Círdan agreed, as etiquette demanded. “I agree we have waited long enough.”

 

 

 

“It is decided then,” I said to the courtiers. “Scribes, write up sentences of execution to be carried out if the craftsmen have not been engaged within the week.”

 

 

 

A couple of the Castle Finance Committee tried to stand and express their feelings, but I ordered the guards to arrest them if they uttered even one word. That should be the kick up the arse they all need.

 

 

 

It was the end of the court session and we needed to go back to our apartment and change out of our formal clothes. I wasn’t looking forward to it. Círdan had closed off the connection between us and I knew that as soon as we were in our rooms there would be one almighty argument.

 

 

 

Nothing changes, does it?

 

 

 

**Part 126 – The Biggest Surprise of Círdan's Life.**

 

 

 

Círdan stood up from his throne and offered his hand to me, as is etiquette. He looked as though he would rather fondle a viper. We walked out of the room and up to our apartment. Once we were past the door, he exploded with rage.

 

 

 

“How dare you decide something without consulting me. We are supposed to do settle matters together,” he yelled.

 

 

 

“You have sulked all day, so how were we to discuss anything?” I yelled back.

 

 

 

“You...” Círdan started, but could not carry one. I had hold of him and pressed my lips against his. He tried several times, but I kept on kissing until he responded. Then I worked my way downwards and made him a very happy elf indeed.

 

 

 

“If you ever have another mega-sulk with me I am going to embarrass you horribly,” I said when I stood up. I kissed his nose.

 

 

 

“Like you did just before in front of all our courtiers?” he accused.

 

 

 

“That was nothing.” I winked as I kissed his cheek. “I will wop my half-tattooed dick out and say that even the rulers of Mithlond have to obey the law.”

 

 

 

“You wouldn’t dare!” Círdan said in a low, angry voice.

 

 

 

I smirked. “You know I would.” Círdan did not look too happy; he knew I would too. “Sulking gets you nowhere,” I continued. “Isn’t it your sulking that got me killed when I was Oropher? I would have thought you had learnt the lesson, but it seems not.”

 

 

 

“You always bring that up. I did not mean to withhold the note, it was an accident. Believe me, I lived with the guilt for many hundreds of years.”

 

 

 

“If you had not been a sulker you would have remembered the note and given it to me. “I keep bringing it up because it is a lesson that needs constant reinforcement.” I kissed him and then dropped the bombshell. “If you cannot stop sulking then I will have no choice but to leave you forever and take our elflings with me. I will not have them affected by your intransigence.”

 

 

    


“You cannot do that,” he said, somewhat alarmed. “I won’t allow it.”

 

    


 

“How will you stop me? You will be too busy indulging yourself and making everyone around you feel uncomfortable, to notice what is going on. Anyway, I am Oropher; I will do as I like. We will not repeat the mistakes of the past just because you are unwilling to change. It stops now, or I go.”

 

    


 

Círdan said nothing. I had never threatened to leave him before. He looked as though he had been hit over the head by a ton weight. I took him in my arms and guided his head onto my shoulder, stroking his hair with my hands. “I love you very much," I said softly. "I will always love you, but I am not prepared to go back to the old days where we argued all the time and you would go off into long sulks, only to come back and have five minutes of happiness before we argued again. Isn’t our relationship worth more than that?” I continued to stroke his head and could feel his warm breath upon my neck. “When I was Ereolas, we tried not to argue and we were successful, but now I am Oropher you have very quickly shifted back to how we were when I lived before. I want what we had when I was Ereolas; just because I am Oropher now it does not mean that everything has to change.”

 

 

   


“I am sorry,” Círdan mumbled and kissed my neck. “I do not want us to part. I love you too much to lose you again. I did not realise what I was doing.”

 

 

    


In a pig’s eye he didn’t, still I am not going to push it. “Let us get out of these clothes,” I said as I stood up. I took my heavily bejewelled robe off and hung it in the wardrobe. Then I did the same with Círdan's. My shoes were kicked off and I lay on the bed. “Come, Meleth. Come lay with me. Let us hold one another and calm down.”

 

 

    


Círdan looked defeated. He lay beside me, and because I am the nice one I held him in my arms. Sulking wears an elf out, and it was not long before he fell asleep. There was nothing for me to do, so I fell asleep too.

 

 

    


I awoke when someone knocked on the door. Carefully disentangling myself from Círdan, I went to answer it. There were our three elflings, happy and laughing with their nannies.

 

 

    


“I will take them,” I said to the nannies, and suggested that they have some free time until after dinner. They were very happy with this, and I heard them discussing going to the market. They come from Lothlórien and have been picked by Orophin to look after our babies. All three trained at Haldir’s School for Recalcitrant Elflings.

 

 

    


“Look Ada, I painted my name,” Geli said excitedly. “We will show it to Ada Círdan and he can put it on his office wall.”

 

 

    


“I painted the Battle of The Last Alliance,” my over-ambitious elfling, Ereodan, told me. “It's great and it really looks like them.”

 

 

  


“I did a painting of Unca Mel and me with dragon that ate Unca ‘Fin.” Cireolas beamed happily as he toddled his wobbly way into our bedroom.

 

    


 

“Círdan, wake up,” I said and gently shaking his shoulder.

 

 

    


“Is Ada asleep because he is really old?” Geli asked.

 

 

    


“Not at all. You are being very cheeky.”

 

    


 

“Yes, but I am cute.”

 

    


 

“All babies are cute,” I told my tiny iell.

 

    


 

Cireolas had climbed on the bed by this time and was urging Círdan to wake up. “Ada,” he shouted in his ear. “I made painting for you.”

 

 

    


Círdan grunted and put his arms around our little ion. He smiled with his eyes shut. “I was having a lovely sleep, Cireolas.” He did a rather long yawn and opened his sleepy eyes. “How lovely to wake up to a cuddle from my eldest ion.”

 

    


 

Cireolas giggled and put his arms around Círdan's neck. “I paint me and Unca Mel and dragon that ate Unca ‘Fin.”

 

    


 

Círdan laughed. “’Fin won’t like that.”

 

 

  


“Unca Mel have to kill dragon to get Unca Fin out,” Cireolas explained. The painting was a small yellow stick figure with a large black stick figure and a green blob with a yellow dash coming from the centre. The sky was blue and the bottom of the painting was green.

 

    


 

“What is that?” I pointed to the yellow dash.

 

   


 

“That Unca ‘Fin foot,” Cireolas replied as though I was stupid.

 

    


 

“It is a wonderful painting,” Círdan said enthusiastically. “We will hang it on my office wall.”

 

    


 

“I did a great painting, Ada,” Ereodan said, “look!”

 

    


 

Three brown stick figures shaped like horses had two yellow stick figures and one black on top of them. One of the yellow figures had little pink hearts stamped around it, no doubt from a carved potato shape. “That’s you,” Ereodan said to me and grinned. “The black one is Gil-Galad, and the other yellow one is Elendil. Isn’t it good?”

 

 

    


“It is very good. For a three month old baby it is absolutely stunning.”

 

 

    


“Remember, Ada,” my precocious one said. “I am reborn and so I still have all my painting talent.”

 

    


 

How I did not laugh, I do not know. Anyway, my attention was distracted by Geli who wanted me to look at her painting of her name. “It is spelt wrong; the J should be a G,” I told her.

 

 

 

“No, it is not,” Geli said. “It is spelt with a J not a G. You always spell it wrong. It is J E L I.”

 

 

    


“I will have to make sure that I spell it correctly in future,” I kissed her little cheek. She looked at Círdan.

 

    


 

“I will spell it with a J as well, young Lady,” he said as he took her from me. “I think we need to take all the paintings to the court artist and ask him to frame them.”

 

 

    


“Get a servant to do it,” Ereodan piped up. “That is what they are for.”

 

 

    


“Absolutely not,” I said. “They have enough to do. Getting the servants to do everything encourages laziness and takes them away from their usual duties.”

 

 

    


“We will not have lazy elflings,” Círdan said sternly.

 

 

    


“I not lazy,” Cireolas beamed and Jeli quickly added that she was not lazy either. Círdan said that he knew they were not lazy.

 

 

    


Ereodan started to cry. He cried so hard that it was difficult to talk to him for a while. I sat on the chair with my upset little elfling. Círdan covered him with a blanket and then he told Jeli and Cireolas not to snigger. I stroked Ereodan’s head and he calmed after a while. He sucked his thumb noisily as I sang the soothing baby song, ‘My Friend the Oliphaunt’ to him. Eventually his little eyelids fluttered and he fell asleep.

 

    


 

“I will be back soon,” Círdan said as he kissed my lips. He looked at Ereodan’s sleeping form and said how sweet he looked while asleep, then he picked Jeli up and the paintings. “Come on,” he said to Cireolas. “Let’s go and see the Court Artist.”

 

    


 

Gradually, I put Ereodan down on the bed and placed his blanket over him. I opened the window and let the gentle sea breeze drift into the room before taking a book entitled, ‘The Social Consequences of Trifle through the Ages, Including Recipes and Anecdotes from famous trifle lovers” from the book shelf. The rocking chair was near to the bed, so I sat there and opened the cover to explore the delights within. The book is a new publication from the cookery publishing division of the Lothlórien Press; a new company which enjoys Galadriel and Celeborn’s protection from the Stiffy Toy Company, who immediately tried to buy it out and then started using strong arm tactics when they were met with refusal. A quick withdrawal of all royal orders, and a threat by Galadriel to tear their offices down with her bare hands, quickly brought the Stiffy Toy Company back into line, and now the Lothlórien press is doing very well. They sent me the trifle book as a present, and it is indeed a marvellous read, especially as there is a whole section devoted to me and my love of the dessert. The drawings are very complimentary.

 

    


 

Círdan, Cireolas and Jeli arrived back just after Ereodan woke up. I fed him, changed his nappy, and cuddled him close as he noisily sucked his thumb.

 

    


 

“Ready for dinner?” Círdan asked softly. Jeli was asleep in his arms.

 

 

    


I smiled and nodded. We walked to the dinner hall, little Cireolas wobbling in front of us but not falling over, and a baby in each of our arms. We sat down at the top table and the noise of the hall woke Jeli from her slumber.

 

 

    


“Ada,” she screeched. “Feed me now! I am a princess, feed me now.”

 

    


 

I just know that Cireolas has been advising her, even though he looked surprised. Wait until we get back to our rooms!

 

 

 

 


	44. Part 127 – The Sailing. Part 128 – Sleeping with the Elflings. Part 129 – Longing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Círdan sails the new ships to Valinor. Ereolas lets the elflings sleep in his bed. Ereolas is lonely.

 

 

  **Part 127 – The Sailing.**

 

The Valar have gifted us with a new fleet of ships. They are white and look like magnificent swans floating on the water.  There are five ships to replace the three that we lost. Apparently, the cabins are bigger and less cramped, so they do not hold as many elves.

 

The last of the dying elves who were injured because of the Kraken, or were fading because of the deaths of loved ones during her murderous rampage, were transferred onto the ships. Círdan and his crews were ready to sail. Elrond managed to keep most of the dying from doing so, for the three weeks it took the ships to arrive here. Still, they would soon be on their way leaving him feeling extremely relieved.

 

“You know,” I said as the last dying passenger boarded. “I never cease to be amazed at your healing talents. You have saved so many.”

 

Elrond smiled. “The Valar have blessed me. I wasn’t always this good.” He looked at Vilya on his finger. “Until Ereinion gave me this ring, I was only as good as every other healer.” He was telling the truth; during the Second Age Elrond was known as a healer who learnt by his mistakes. However, he is a fantastic healer now, and it would be churlish of me to even mention his past, so I won’t.

 

“I do not think you can attribute all your success to a ring. You have worked hard and studied much.”

 

“The ring gives me knowledge that is unseen. I do not have to wonder what is affecting the one who is ill, I know already. Often, I can also tell how it happened. I know what even a well practised eye cannot see.”

 

“Gives you the edge on Saelir then.” I laughed.

 

“If it were not for Vilya he would probably be better than me,” Elrond admitted.

 

I was surprised, because after all this time Elrond had to be much better than he used to be, even without Vilya. “Surely not?”

 

“I mean it. When we go to Valinor, and the power of Vilya is no more, then he will be the better healer.”

 

“Will that bother you?”

 

“Why should it? I wanted to be a healer when I was young, but now I find it less fulfilling. Sometimes I would like to take Vilya off and see just how good I am without it.” Elrond smiled. “I sometimes feel as though I do not deserve the title of being the best healer in Middle-earth.”

 

“You are too modest. Saelir believes you are the best.”

 

“He knows how I feel. He neither cares one way or the other; he is looking forward to doing something else in Valinor as well. Like you, he does not believe the ring helps me as much as I think it does.”

 

“Maybe he is right.”

 

“It is a ponderance that is useless to pursue,” Elrond shrugged. He smiled at Círdan, who was walking towards us. “May Elbereth guide your way,” he called in greeting.

 

“No risk of being attacked by a sea monster,” Círdan said without thinking. Our elflings were beside me in their baby walker; while Cireolas seemed not to have heard, because he was poking his tongue out at the Lady Erviniae, the other two looked extremely worried indeed.

 

“Ada, you won’t get eaten will you?” Ereodan asked.

 

“No, not at all,” Círdan laughed as he picked his smallest ion up and kissed him. “I am old and tough; they would spit me out.”

 

Jeli looked horrified. “But what about all the other elves on the ship? They are not as old as you. They could get eaten; their flesh will not be so hard to eat. You are thinking only of yourself.”

 

“Ada is playing with you.” I lifted her out of the walker, so she could kiss her ada goodbye. “The Valar protect the ships going to Valinor.”

 

“Wouldn’t it be better not to sail and let everyone die?” Ereodan asked. “I was dead once and it really isn’t all that bad.”

 

“It was quite good fun really,” Jeli agreed.

 

I shook my head. Elrond and Círdan just stared at them. “I will excuse what you said because you are both babies,” I told them. “I do not expect to hear that sort of silliness coming out of your mouth ever again.”

 

“We can’t do anything right can we?” Jeli sighed.

 

“It is hard being reborn.” Ereodan pouted. “No one ever dared tell me off in my previous life.”

 

“Get used to it,” my wonderful husband said, grinning widely. Ereodan’s bottom lip quivered; he cries easily at the moment. “Come here. Give me a cuddle,” Círdan took our little baby in his arms and hugged him, giving him a big raspberry kiss on the cheek, which made him screw his face up and grudgingly laugh. “You are one of my favourite ionen.” He tickled Ereodan's belly until he giggled. “When I arrive back I am going to give you the biggest cuddle ever because I love you.”

 

Jeli looked at Círdan and pointed her baby finger at him. “You must promise to stay safe. You are my ada and I want you to come back.” I gave her to Círdan and took Ereodan from him, so that she could have a cuddle too. “You make sure you come straight home. No stopping and having parties without us.”

 

“Of course not,” Círdan laughed and gave her a huge cuddle and a kiss. “When I come back I am going to give you the biggest cuddle as well.”

 

I looked down. Cireolas was holding onto my leg and waggling his tongue out at the Lady Erviniae. She was standing about twenty yards away, saying farewell to her Captain brother, who would be commanding one of the ships, while also making faces at Cireolas. They are as bad as one another. She poked her tongue out at me too. “What are you doing?” I asked my little ion, who nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard my voice.

 

“Ervy started it,” he pointed to her. She gave a big smile and waved to Cireolas who waved back.

 

“She is very naughty,” I told him. “Not a good influence on little princes.”

 

“I like her. She let me cuddle her baby. Her baby is very small and pretty and her name is Mellon.” Cireolas still cannot say Mélawen.

 

“Give Ada a cuddle. He is going off in that big ship to take the sick elves to Valinor and he will be away for a couple of weeks.” I had already told Cireolas before, but it seemed the point needed reinforcing.

 

Elrond took Jeli from Círdan and told me to give Ereodan to him as well. He held both babies so that I could have a kiss and a cuddle from the one I love, after he had finished saying goodbye to Cireolas.

 

“Can I go with you?” Cireolas asked, looking beyond Círdan at the big white ship.

 

“You are too young to be a sailor,” Círdan laughed.

 

“I will be big one day.” Cireolas smiled and hugged his ada hard. “One day I go with you on the sea.”

 

“All right,” Círdan replied and smiled. “One day.”

 

“Will miss you.” Cireolas giggled. “We can be naughty and you won’t know.”

 

“Ada Ereolas will tell me if you are naughty, you cheeky little monkey.”

 

“I always good.” Cireolas assumed his serious face and waggled his index finger at his ada. “I never naughty. You know that.”

 

Círdan laughed and kissed Cireolas. “I am so going to miss you. When I come back I will give you the biggest cuddle ever.” I love seeing them together; indeed, I had a big grin plastered over my face.

 

“Bring back presents?” Cireolas gave his ada an exceptionally cute smile.

 

Círdan laughed again and put Cireolas down. “Be a good little prince,” he said, as he kissed the upturned smiling face.

 

It was my turn to say good bye. I put my arms around Círdan and he did the same to me. “I love you so much. I miss you already, but the homecoming will be delicious. Think on that in your private moments of longing.” I pulled a scroll from my robe and gave it to him. “Open it when you are onboard.” I kissed his lips. The scroll was a rather delicious picture of me naked, which the court artist drew for me.

 

“I will miss you too, Meleth.” Círdan stroked his fingers across the side of my face. “I love you more than my own life. Stay safe, and be here to meet me when I arrive back.”

 

“I will,” I promised.

 

“Thinking of the night of love we will enjoy when I come back will keep me going throughout the voyage.” Círdan gave me that look, the one that gives me butterflies in my belly. How I wanted to hold him and not let go. Actually, I wanted to throw him down to the ground and fuck him.

 

“Come back quickly,” I said softly, kissing his lips, and moving forward slightly so he could feel my hardness against his.

 

From behind I could hear Cireolas expressing how revolted he was that we used tongues when we kissed. Just like Mel when he was an elfling. After assuring each other of our eternal love, Círdan hugged our elflings again and wished Elrond farewell. We walked nearer to his ship and watched him embark.

 

“I go with ada next time,” Cireolas confidently told Elrond as he sat safe in my arms. I visualised him running to the edge of the dock and falling in the sea if I did not hang onto him. Elrond held Ereodan and Jeli and told them to stop wriggling more than once.

 

A row of oars, poking from both sides of the hull, sliced through the small waves. Círdan's ship glided away from the dockside, followed shortly by the others. The wind was picking up. Further out the oars retracted inside the hull and three masts of great white and gold crested sails were unfurled. They billowed out noisily until fully filled. As his ship moved further away, we could see Círdan waving to us, and so we waved back and blew kisses. The ships were faster than the ones in the older fleet and it was not long before they disappeared over the horizon. While we could see them they made a magnificent sight indeed.

 

He would be back soon, I told myself, especially if they maintained their speed. It still meant that I would be sleeping alone. However, so would the partners of those who were sailing with him. It would not be forever, and I could always use my ever willing hand in moments of need.

 

“I sleep with you tonight and make sure you not lonely,” Cireolas said, looking hopeful. He missed Círdan already.

 

“We want to sleep with you as well,” Jeli said loudly. “Don’t we Ereodan?” Of course, her brother agreed with her.

 

Elrond laughed as I unwillingly agreed. Luckily, our bed is about ten feet wide, because Círdan saw a time when we might have to let our elflings sleep in our bed with us.  We went to the soft play baby room and dropped them off with Orophin and their nannies. Then Elrond and I went to tea.

 

We were joined by Elladan and Elrohir who looked tired. They remarked how glad they were that the healing rooms were now empty. “Yes, but you both learned a lot,” Elrond admonished.

 

“If you say so.” Elrohir took a sip of his tea.

 

“I am going to pick up two warriors tonight and shag them silly,” Elladan said. “If I can work up the energy, that is. Ada worked us so hard, I feel as though I need a month’s sleep.” He looked at me and grinned.

 

“It was not that bad.” Elrond sighed. “You should go into a battle situation...”

 

“Here he goes again,” Elrohir shrugged, yelping with surprise when his ada threw a sugar cube at him and it hit his nose.

 

We were quite badly behaved, and I was glad the elflings were not there to see us. Elladan smeared a cream cake over Elrohir's face and then he fell off his chair laughing. Elrohir poured the cream jug over his brother, then threw the rest of the sugar cubes at me and Elrond. I laughed myself silly, and found a cream horn wedged in my mouth. Elrond screeched with laughter. I bit into the cake so hard that the cream shot out and hit him between the eyes. Before he could do anything I wiped it all over his face.

 

I needed the laugh. Afterwards I felt much happier. Sometimes it takes acting like an elfling to wind down and not be miserable. Even better, now I am Oropher no one dares to criticise me. It is so handy being regarded as one who is unpredictable and likely to kill for hardly anything. Not that I would, but, as they say, reputation is everything.

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

**Part 128 – Sleeping with the Elflings.**

 

 

 

   

The night of Círdan’s sailing was spent in bed with my elflings keeping me company. They thought I would be lonely and so they wanted to sleep with me. I moved some chairs against the opposite side of the bed and put Cireolas next to them, while the twins laid in the middle.

 

 

“We are going to make sure Jeli and Ereodan do not fall out of bed. You are a big boy now, so you can help me,” I said to Cireolas.

 

 

“You no fall out of bed,” Cireolas said to the twins, looking at them sternly. “I big brother, and you no fall out of bed.”

 

 

“We have no intention of falling out of bed,” Ereodan replied as he wiggled his legs in his baby sleeping sack. It is like a pyjama top around the body but the bottom is like a bag so that the legs can move freely around. There are fastenings at the bottom, which enable quick nappy changes without taking the whole thing off. The Stiffy Toy Company sent the entire, ‘Prince and Princess’ baby range of clothing as a gift for them. They are very fond of giving rulers free goods, as it encourages others to buy the same. I thought that no elf would fall for that sort of ploy, but when Ereodan wore his Hello Vampire baby suit I saw other little boy babies wearing them too. The little girls here are all wearing bunny decorated shoes and dresses. Bunnies are Jeli’s favourite animals and she wears them on her clothes every day. I never ever thought that any of my elflings would ever become leaders of fashion. Even boys of Cireolas’ age are wearing the same boots as him. They are known here as, ‘Unca Mel Vampire Boots’ and The Stiffy Toy Company have leased the name for an extremely handsome sum from my brother, who has granted them rights for the next ten years. I wonder if Erestor still intends suing them for publishing his private sex manual.

 

 

Jeli wore her bunny rabbit sleeping suit and Cireolas wore his Hello Vampire pyjamas.  I was on the other side and facing my children. “Tell us a story, Ada.” My tiny iell's eyes were large in the candlelight.

 

 

“Yes, tell us a story from when you were younger,” Ereodan said, before putting his thumb back in his mouth.

 

 

“Tell us story, please.” Cireolas beamed at me. I noticed that he was holding Ereodan’s hand.

 

 

“Cireolas is the only one who said, please.” I told them.

 

 

“We meant to say it, didn’t we Ereodan?” Jeli protested.

 

 

“We were so excited to be in bed with you, Ada, that we forgot to be polite.” Ereodan gave me a big baby grin.

 

 

“Right. Don’t do it again.”

 

 

“We won’t,” my two elflings sung in chorus, not meaning a word of it.

 

 

“All right. Let me see. How about when I killed a spider and was awarded a medal for it?”

 

 

“I not heard that one before, Ada,” Cireolas said. “Was it a really great big spider?”

 

 

“Not really. We lived in the Greenwood, before it became infested with evil. So the spiders were pretty small.”

 

 

“Get to the point, Ada. I am really excited now,” Jeli said.

 

 

“Doesn’t take much.” I stroked her black hair.

 

 

“I am excited too,” Ereodan said.

 

 

I looked at Cireolas and he smiled at me, so I started the story. “When I was a little elfling, I lived in a big palace in a place called Amon Lanc. My Nana and Ada were the King and Queen there. I loved them and they loved me outrageously.”

 

 

“Was Grand Ada Thranduil a little boy too?” Cireolas asked.

 

 

“He was not around then. He was born many years later.”

 

 

“Shut up, Cireolas. I want to hear the story,” Ereodan said. “If you say anything else I am going to cry.”

 

 

Ereolas is particularly adept at crying, and we think it's attention seeking most of the time. However, I do not wish to have a marathon crying fit to deal with, so I told my elflings that if there were anymore interruptions I would not tell the story. They lay quietly looking at me.

 

 

“When I was a tiny elfling, I was given my first sword. My ada said that I should kill as many goblins and spiders as I could with it. There were not any goblins in Amon Lanc, and when I told my ada that he said they were invisible and hid around corners waiting to pounce on cheeky little boys.” My children were wide eyed. They wanted to ask questions but did not dare because they wanted to hear the end of the story. If anything, I am always consistent. “One day, I was at dinner with my nana and ada, sitting on my Prince Chair between them. Ada told the maid to pour some orange juice for me, but I was taking no notice. Over the other side of the room I could see the serving elf bringing a tall domed dish to our table. Our dinners were keeping warm underneath the cover. We had already eaten lobster for our starters.”

 

 

The elflings were spellbound. They are only babies; I could probably have said anything and they would have been totally attentive.

 

 

“The serving elf put the large domed dish on the table and lifted the lid off with a flourish. There was a large roast swan. Nana gasped with delight. However, some wicked elf had put a poisonous jumper spider, so called because it can leap very high and looks as though it is wearing a small knitted jumper, under the dome. It leapt high into the air towards Nana’s open mouth and went straight down her throat. She could not breathe and was turning blue. Ada thumped her smartly on the back and it flew out and hit him, landing on his nose. “Aaaagh!” Ada cried; he could see the spider, and it was just about to bite him. I quickly took my wooden sword and smacked the spider with it, just as it was about to sink its fangs into Ada’s skin. The spider was squashed flat against Ada’s nose and was not able to bite him.”

 

 

I could see Cireolas wondering if his wooden sword would be as effective. The twins lay there, looking at me as if I were some kind of hero.

 

 

“Ada looked shocked and so did Nana. “I do believe you have just saved my life,” he said to me.”

 

 

Jeli’s mouth hung open in surprise.

 

 

“Nana stroked my head, “Our little one deserves a huge spider killer medal,” she said to Ada. She reached over and pulled me onto her knee and gave me the biggest kiss. The next day there was a special party in the dinner hall where I was presented with a medal that was engraved with my name and the words 'Heroic Spider Killer'. There was also a large cake in the shape of a spider with a wooden sword sticking out of it. From that day on Ada decreed that spiders were not allowed to live in Amon Lanc unless they had the necessary registration papers and a birth certificate. Those that did not were to be killed on sight.”

 

 

I had finished. I smiled and asked if they had anything to say now the story was over.

 

 

“Your ada was mad,” Jeli said. “How can spiders carry registration papers and have birth certificates?”

 

 

“Perhaps he said it to make me laugh,” I replied.

 

 

“Ada, you very brave,” Cireolas said. “Could I kill spiders with my sword?”

 

 

“You certainly can. Look at Ereodan, he is asleep.”

 

 

“Wake up Ereodan,” Jeli shouted. I swiftly told her to be quiet. Happily, he did not stir.

 

 

“It is time for us to sleep now.” I turned onto my side to face my little elflings. Cireolas lay down, still holding Ereodan’s hand and wished me goodnight.

 

 

“Sweet dreams little one, I love you,” I said as I leant over to give him a kiss goodnight. I gave one to Ereodan too.

 

 

“Sweet dreams, I love you too, Ada,” Cireolas replied. He kissed his brother and sister, shut his eyes and quickly fell asleep.

 

 

“Ada, I am not sleepy,” Jeli said as her eyelids fluttered.

 

 

“Good night my little one.” She sucked noisily on her thumb. “Sweet dreams, I love you.”

 

 

“Sweet dreams, I love you too,” she replied, rapidly losing the battle to stay awake. I picked her up and held her in my arms until she fell asleep properly, and then kissed her tiny cheek. How I love her. What ada does not fall in love completely every time they see their baby iell?

 

 

I couldn’t sleep very well that night just in case one of them rolled of the bed, in spite of the precautions I had taken to keep them in it. They were bright and fresh the next morning and I was tired.

 

 

We dressed and went to breakfast.  Elrond told me that Manwë had told him to pack because he would be leaving the next day. He remarked that I looked as though I had not slept. I told him about my night.

 

 

He laughed. “Why didn’t you put them back to their own beds when they fell asleep?”

 

 

Silly me, I did not think of that!

 

 

 

 

 

**Part 129 – Longing.**

 

 

 

Círdan and I have received an invitation for the annual Slash Awards to be held in Lothlórien. That should please the three nannies who look after my elflings, and also Orophin I expect, although it might mean that his wife has another elfling the year after. According to the invitation, Galadriel will be presenting and Celeborn will be giving the prizes. Before that we are going to Lindir and Gildor’s wedding, and then straight onto Galadriel and Saelbeth’s wedding, which I am informed by my spies will be celebrated on the same day as Celeborn and Haldir's. I wonder if I can get away with wearing the same outfit three times. I expect not.

 

How I hate being fitted for clothing. I am bigger now, so I had to be measured for a full wardrobe. The only clothing of mine that fitted was stuff I wore when pregnant. The court costumiers quickly made several outfits for now, until they could make more formal robes for me.  Other than that, I wear Círdan’s clothing. We are nearly the same size now.

 

Our twins are having their portrait painted. We have a portrait already, but I want another one to surprise Círdan with when he gets back from Valinor. I hope they behave and do not start being naughty in front of the Court Artist. I can just imagine Jeli asking how many nudes he has painted, or Ereodan asking if he has any naughty paintings of me, like he did last time. Really, he makes me wonder sometimes. He is most disconcerting seems to remember much about when he was Ereinion, yet Jeli never mentions her former life at all.

 

How I miss Círdan. The bed is lonely without him, but he will be back soon. The elflings are now sleeping in their own beds and I am sleeping mine. It will not be long now.

 

Elrond went home a few days ago. Manwë arrived and took away. I barely said a word to the Lord of Airs; I will never forget that he will one day take our daughter from us. It matters not that he has apologised for his iniquities towards me, I am still raw and it will always hurt.

 

Today I took Cireolas along the terraces and we walked past the workers rebuilding the broken curtain wall. It took the Castle Finance Committee hardly anytime at all to get the work started after I threatened them with execution.

 

“Ada, why it called curtain wall?” Cireolas asked me.

 

“Because it acts as a defence from outside. Like a curtain stops light getting in the window, the curtain wall stops people getting in to the castle grounds at night.”

 

“Didn’t want school lesson,” Cireolas pouted. “I only asked.”

 

I picked him up. “You are being very cheeky to your ada, little one.” I blew a raspberry on his cheek. “Shall I throw you over the wall and into the sea below?”

 

“Yes!” he shouted, his big dark-blue eyes lighting up. “Throw me in sea.”

 

I ran about twenty feet near to the wall and made out to throw Cireolas, whilst he screamed with laughter. “You nearly went over then.” I laughed.

 

“Do it again." He giggled.

 

I did it several times more. The courtiers gathered, watching and laughing. In the distance I could see the Ladies Aglarien and Erviniae walking towards us. Tiny Mélawen was in her pram, covered with white fluffy blankets.

 

“Do you want to see Lady Erviniae’s baby?” I asked Cireolas.

 

He nodded, so I put him down on the ground and he ran along the terrace with a little wobbly run and only fell over once. He stood straight back up and continued running until he reached the two ladies. “I see baby Mellon,” I heard him shout.

 

Lady Erviniae bent down and gave Cireolas a big hug. I watched as they both looked in the pram together. “Baby Mélawen is asleep,” Erviniae said softly.

 

“She sleepy baby,” Cireolas said quietly. He looked at me standing behind him. “You hush, or mellon wake up.” Poor Cireolas he still cannot say his own name, and he cannot say Mélawen’s either. I suppressed a snigger.

 

“It is a lovely day, isn’t it Cireolas?” Aglarien said to my small ion.

 

“I keep Ada company,” Cireolas replied. “He make out to throw me over wall.”

 

“Make sure you are never naughty, or else he might do just that,” Aglarien joked with Cireolas, who looked serious.

 

“No, Ada not do that,” he told her. “He love Cirrus, don’t you Ada?”

 

I picked him up and tickled him. “Of course I do. You are my big ion. Give me a big kiss.” He slapped his lips on my cheek and blew a huge raspberry, just like I do to him.

 

He leaned out of my arms, towards Aglarien and Erviniae. “We go to tea, you come?”

 

“Next time, Cireolas,” Erviniae smiled and tickled his cheek. “I am taking Mélawen to the healers for her baby check up.”

 

“We eat your cake.” Cireolas giggled and then he lay his head on my shoulder.

 

“Don’t eat all the cakes,” Aglarien said as he grinned. “There will be none left for your brother and sister.”

 

“They too small,” Cireolas grinned. “I eat their ones too.”

 

My little ion put his hand on my ear to hold it and sucked his thumb. He was getting tired, so we said our goodbyes and I took him to our apartment. By the time we got there he was fast asleep. I laid him on my bed and sat by the open window reading a book about Gondolinian agricultural practices with special reference to plough design. It was not as exciting as Círdan had been led me to believe and I found my attention wandering. I peered out at the sea and looked towards the horizon, no ships came into view and so I carried on reading. A servant delivered salmon and watercress sandwiches for me, and egg and cress ones cut into teddy bear shapes for Cireolas. There was a selection of small pastries, a baby drinking cup with feeder holes to drink from for Cireolas, and a bone china cup for me. In the middle of the tray, a large bone china teapot stood next to a milk jug. It was all extremely civilised, and also rather boring as I did not have my favourite elf to share it with.

 

It is killing me not having Círdan here. One never knows how much they miss their other half until they are not there anymore. I do not want to make small talk with any other elf or spend time with them. I want my Círdan and I want him now!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	45. Part 130 – Buying Presents for Ada. Part 131 – Presents for Círdan. Part 132 – Catching an arrow and looking pretty damn good!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ereolas is lonely and so he takes the elflings shopping. Círdan receives his presents. Ereolas is the victim of yet another assassination attempt.

 

**Part 130 – Buying Presents for Ada.**

 

   


Círdan has been gone for nearly three weeks and I am going out of my mind with boredom. I dreamt about him last night. He came into our bedroom looking tanned and gorgeous, apparently having just climbed off the ship. He kissed me and a whole load of face fur travelled down my throat and was choking me. I pushed him away and woke up finding that the pillow had burst and my mouth was full of feathers.

 

 

I took the elflings down to the dock this afternoon. We looked at all the boats, mostly pleasure craft with a couple of big trading ships. The nannies came with us and so did the elflings’ bodyguards. I do not have one because I am Oropher and I am blessed by the Valar. I will not die unless they will it. That will not stop the assassination attempts and needing to go to the healing rooms though.

 

We went to the Mermaid Tavern, which has become quite the place for the richer elves to be seen in. It has an exclusive policy that appeals to most of those who prefer a quieter place to drink; however, that is not the reason we went there. Outside, in the beer garden is an elflings' play area. Cireolas particularly enjoys going on the swings and the slide. It has become quite the fashion to be seen in the company of one’s own elflings, no doubt because Círdan and I spend a lot of time with ours. The elves in this realm follow us like sheep. I despise snobbery, as everyone knows, but the Mermaid is a safe place to take one’s elflings; there is a drink limit, and loud noise and drunkenness is not tolerated.

 

 

I sat with the bodyguards while Cireolas’ nanny put him in the tiny swing baby swing. He squealed with laughter, waking Ereodan and Jeli who demanded to be picked up.

 

 

“I want a drink of milk,” Ereodan said to his nanny. She gave him a bottle of milk that I expressed previous to leaving our rooms. I knew he would demand milk if we were in public. “No, I want tit milk,” he boomed. I noticed that Jeli sniggered.

 

 

“Give him to me.” His nanny passed him across. “You will drink your milk out of a bottle when we are in public,” I said softly in his ear so that I could not be overheard. “If you argue about it, then I will leave you at home the next time we all go out.”

 

 

After taking the bottle from his nanny I attempted to give it to Ereodan. He pushed it away and burst into tears. He cries for anything at all. If he cannot have what he wants he throws a massive crying fit.

 

 

“Take him back to the castle.”

 

 

“Noooo...” Ereodan cried. “Want to stay here. I will be good.”

 

 

Jeli sat smirking as she drank from her bottle of milk. She pushed the teat out of her mouth, and said that she thought Ereodan was acting like a baby before suckling on it again. I don’t suppose it occurs to her that she is one as well.

 

 

“I will give you one last chance to behave. Otherwise I will definitely send you back home and you will not have a nice afternoon with us.”

 

 

It took a while for Ereodan to calm down. I did not give him back to his nanny until he had finished the bottle of milk and was calm again. Cireolas toddled over and gave me a beaming grin so I picked him up and asked if he had enjoyed the swing.

 

 

“I love swing. Need juice now.” I held the cup as he drank the orange and raspberry juice; if he does it himself it goes everywhere. His coordination is what we would expect from an elfling who has not been reborn; he is normal for his age according to Elrond who knows a lot about these things. Thank the Valar I have one new-life born elfling; reborn ones can be so much trouble.

 

 

I took a swig of my ale. Cireolas asked if he could have some, as he always does. I dipped my finger in the brown liquid and put it in his mouth. He shuddered. “It horrid.” How we all laughed.

 

 

One of Ereodan’s bodyguards put him on the downward slope of the slide and held him as he slid down. He laughed and asked the warrior to do it again. Geli sat on the roundabout with her nanny and squealed with laughter, her little arms flapping up and down. The other warriors and I drank our ale. The nannies preferred to drink wine, which they did in-between amusing the elflings. Several elves made their presence known and said how delightful my elflings were. Ever since I became Oropher again, the Mithlond elves have been very careful not to stir my anger and have been overly obsequious and fawning in my presence. Personally I have no time for them, although I am always polite.

 

 

We departed after an hour, when the babies began to tire. Cireolas laid his head on my shoulder and sung a song about an Oliphaunt that was stuck up a tree. Jeli and Ereodan lay in their baby walker. Before going home, we went to the shops to buy Círdan a present for when he arrived back.

 

 

Jeli insisted that she pose for a silhouette. The artist drew her profile very quickly on a sheet of black paper as she sat on my lap, and then he cut it out with a sharp knife and mounted in a frame against a white background. “Ada will love it.” She grinned cheekily, knowing she was right. “He will probably say it is the best present he has ever had.”

 

 

We went to the sweet shop next. Ereodan picked out a huge, red toffee lolly. On it he had the words, ‘To Ada Círdan, welcome home, love Ereodan’ piped in white icing. We went up the other end of the shop to pay. It was there that Cireolas saw a model of a ship in a bottle.

 

 

“How is ship fit in bottle, Ada?”

 

 

“It is magic.” I did not tell him how it is done. Círdan showed me when I was an elfling and he can show Cireolas too. He will find it much more interesting than being told.

 

 

Nearby stood a large and very expensive model of Vingilot, not that anyone knows what it looks like, but it was exquisite indeed. “I buy ship for Ada,” Cireolas said.

 

 

“It costs twenty gold pieces,” I told him. “That is three to four years wages for most elves.”

 

 

“I save my pocket money,” he said. “I got sixty gold pieces in my piggybank. I counted them.”

 

 

“Well do not cry when I take the money out of your piggy.” Cireolas never likes to part with his money. We give him one gold piece a week and he often pleads that he has no money when we go shopping. He counts the coins each time we give him a new gold piece, and he likes to play tiddlywinks with them. It was a day of supreme joy for him when I showed him how to spin a coin on the table.

 

 

I asked the serving elleth if she could arrange for delivery to the castle and paid her the twenty gold pieces. We piled out of the shop and were just about to go home when Cireolas announced that he had changed his mind. “Look there,” he shouted excitedly, pointing to a shop window opposite. “Look at Captain Teddy.” There was a teddy dressed up as the captain of a ship, wearing the same uniform as Círdan wears when he sails. “Ada like this more.”

 

 

So will Cireolas because it is much cheaper and he gets to keep all his coins. I decided that I would give Círdan the ship and let Cireolas buy the teddy for him. We went into the shop and Cireolas was so delighted with the themed teddies on sale that he bought appropriate ones for the warriors, his nannies, Orophin, Elrohir, Elladan, his siblings, and me, as well as one for Círdan. After paying one gold piece for the lot, we walked out of the shop with a big bag of soft toys and Cireolas excitedly telling me how much his Ada would love his present.

 

 

We went back to the castle. After the twins were bathed and had some milk they went to sleep in their cot. Cireolas was allowed to stay up an extra hour because he is older. We played some games and then I put him in the bath. The model of Vingilot was delivered quite late on in the evening. After checking for booby traps, as they were required to do, the warriors who took delivery pronounced it safe and brought it into the family sitting room.

 

 

“I had bath,” Cireolas shouted to them, laughing loudly. “I got in bath on my own and Ada sat by side.” I had just put his purple and orange ‘Unca Mel’ brand of pyjamas on him and was busy braiding his hair. He was tiring, and so after finishing his hair I held him in my arms until he went to sleep, then I carried him into the bedroom, kissed him and tucked him into bed.

 

 

The nannies had been to dinner while I bathed Cireolas and a new set of bodyguards took over from the daytime ones. They stand outside the door to our rooms at night. During the day we have three warriors who guard the elflings only. When the nannies arrived back and the elflings had fallen asleep, I went down to dinner. They would be safe and well guarded.

 

 

Elrohir and Elladan sat beside me at dinner, and so did the Ladies Erviniae and Aglarien with their husbands. How I envied them being able to sleep with the ones they love at night. We had a most pleasant time. In the end, I went back to my rooms deciding upon an early night. I hoped that by the morning there would be a sighting of Círdan’s ship. I fell asleep after reading my new book of love poems for the Third Age; the start of which must have been dreary indeed for romance. However, I was not alive, what would I know?

 

 

During the night I felt the sweetest lips on mine and the softest kisses raining down upon my neck. Hard, calloused fingers stroked my chest, first one nipple was sucked and then the other. The milk flowed out and the hand that caught it smeared it across my face. Kisses rained across my cheeks, and the milk was licked away as a hand took hold of my arousal and pumped it lazily up and down. My arms held onto the one who would give me so much bliss and I groaned with happiness.

 

 

“I am back,” Círdan said needlessly, as he kissed the point of one of my ears.

 

 

“Welcome home, melethen.” I let his tongue enter my mouth and we shared the most exquisite kiss.

 

“I have missed you so much. I love you so much that every time I go it is harder to be away and easier to come home.”

 

I pulled Círdan in for another kiss. “Your homecoming is sweeter because you have been away for so long.”

 

“I drove the ships hard and we took advantage of a favourable wind to make good time. Otherwise we would not have arrived until tomorrow morning.”

 

“Make love to me,” I breathed. “Fuck me, so that I know without a doubt that you really are here and this is not a dream.”

 

 We made love. When we stirred during the night we made love again. I could not keep my hands off my wonderful husband; he is tanned, lean, sea roughened and extremely handsome. His skin tasted of salt.

 

My husband is home at last. I have missed him terribly, but now he is back. We have spent a lot of the day being very affectionate; however, that overgrown stubble will have to go!

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Part 131 – Presents for Círdan.**

 

 

Jeli had a nightmare an hour before we were all supposed to wake up, so Círdan used the opportunity to go to the barber and have his facial growth hacked off, leaving me to comfort her.

 

“A big monster tried to eat me because I wouldn’t give him my circlet,” Jeli cried as she snuggled into my chest. “Then it bit me on the leg when I tried to run away.”

 

“Did you tell the monster that you are only a baby and not allowed to give your circlet to him?” I held her just a little bit closer so she would feel safer than she already did.

 

“Yes,” she cried. “He said I had to give it to him anyway and he tried to take it.”

 

“What was the monster’s name?” Diversion tactics sometimes work.

 

“I don’t know.” Jeli sniffled. “I was more concerned with survival than exchanging pleasantries.”

 

“Well, you must tell the monster that if he ever appears to you in your dreams again I will come after him and hack his head off.”

 

“He is bigger than you and will kill you.” Jeli blew her nose on my shirt.

 

“Us kings do not worry about mere trifles like that. The Valar make sure we win every time.”

 

Jeli snuggled back into my chest. I could hear her loudly sucking her thumb. “All right I will tell him.”

 

I stroked her soft black hair as she closed her eyes. Her mouth closed over my nipple and she suckled. I encouraged her to do so because I read in one of Elrond's scientific papers that breastfeeding is a comfort to distressed babies. Soon her tiny body relaxed; her mouth detached from my nipple, leaving a rivulet of milk tracing down my chest. Moving gently, so she did not wake, I took her back to the cot she shared with her brother and put her beside him. “Sleep well, little one,” I whispered.

 

By the time Círdan arrived back it was time to get up. Just how long does it take to shave a beard? The elflings were in bed with me, their nannies having brought them in when they awoke. I feel it is important to maintain closeness, so our elflings spend some time when they first wake up with Círdan and me. Happily, the nannies change their nappies before they bring them in to be with us, or else it might not be so pleasant.

 

Jeli did not seem to be affected by her earlier experience. She laughed as Círdan tickled her belly with his fingers. “I bought you a present,” she shouted and she tried to keep a straight face.

 

“What was that you said? I don’t think you shouted loud enough for me to hear you.”

 

Jeli yelled at the top of her voice that she had a present for him. She then dissolved into a fit of giggles as Círdan blew a raspberry on her neck. I gave him the present and he opened it.

 

“This is wonderful.” He unwrapped the silhouette picture that she had posed for. “I will hang it in our formal sitting room so that all the visitors can see how pretty your profile is.”

 

“I expect they will be very impressed. I am rather beautiful, after all.”

 

Ereodan beamed as he gave Círdan the lolly with, ‘To Ada Círdan, welcome home, love Ereodan’ piped in white icing. “It will taste lovely, and it’s all for you.”

 

“I could have it framed and put on the wall next to Jeli’s silhouette, and then everyone would know what a wonderful ion you are.”

 

“I think it would be better eaten. I might get hungry when I am bigger and eat it myself.”

 

“Ah!” Círdan said with a knowing wink. “You want to help me eat it don’t you?”

 

Ereodan nodded and smiled. He is still drinking milk and eats very basic pureed foods like creamed carrots and rice, so I expect his dream is to eat something like a toffee lolly. Círdan promised to let Ereodan lick the lolly when he opened it.

 

“Ada, I have present for you.” Cireolas gave a big smile. “It teddy. It look like you.”

 

Círdan unwrapped the teddy wearing the captain’s uniform. “This teddy is wearing my uniform.” Cireolas nodded eagerly. “No wonder I could not find any clothes to change into; this teddy is wearing them.”

 

“It bad teddy. It take your clothes away.” Cireolas laughed and smacked the teddy with his hand. “Bad teddy,” he admonished, before falling back on the bed laughing. I pulled him up again and gave him a cuddle. Jeli and Ereodan sat in Círdan’s arms. “Ada has present for you too.” Cireolas looked at me. “Haven’t you?”

 

I smiled. “I have a very nice present for Ada.”

 

“Where is it?” Círdan asked. “I want my present and I want it now.”

 

The elflings thought their ada very funny and giggled loads. I left the bed. Cireolas toddled after me. “I make sure Ada get it,” he said to Círdan as he took my hand.

 

We went into the dressing room and I picked up the large ship. Cireolas held onto the bottom of my night shirt, I always wear bedclothes when the elflings are in our bed. We went back into the bedroom and I gave it to Círdan.

 

“Meleth, this is beautiful.” He was obviously impressed.

 

“I pick it first and then I saw teddy. Teddy better, so Ada got ship for you,” Cireolas said.

 

“He changed his mind after I had paid.”

 

“Was the teddy cheaper?” Círdan asked mischievously It went completely over Cireolas' head.

 

The nannies came back from their early breakfast and took the elflings to be bathed and dressed. We ran our bath. Somehow, Cireolas managed to get in with us. He absolutely loves having a bath, indeed there is a selection toys on the shelf. However, all good things come to an end, so we dried off and dressed.

 

Ereodan decided to wear a purple and orange stripy jumper with green trousers. On his feet were bright red baby shoes from the, ‘Unca Mel’ range and they had little vampire teeth embroidered on them. I do not think he is colour-blind; however, Elrond might want to see him next time he is here. On the other hand, my elflings are allowed to wear what they want, so he may be testing us to see how far we will let him go.

 

Jeli wore a pink bunny, velvet jumpsuit with lace trim. On her feet were fluffy white baby shoes with little bunny ears, and on her head was her bunny jewelled circlet. She clutched the small princess teddy that Lady Aglarien had given her.

 

Cireolas wore his black and red Hello Vampire outfit. He wears it every single day. It is taken off and laundered at night ready for him to wear the next morning. One day it will fall apart; we hope it will be soon. He wore his purple, ‘Unca Mel’ brand boots with the lime green trim and orange socks. He also wore his, ‘Count Mel the Vampire’ circlet. The Hello Vampire Society has made my brother an honorary vampire. Goodness knows what they would do if they ever met a real one.

 

Círdan and I were rather conservative and completely outshone by our elflings, but we did not care. So long as they are well behaved they could do as they liked. We all went to breakfast and afterwards we dropped the elflings off at their schoolroom. Free of our little ones we decided to go for a walk on the terraces.

 

We sat on a stone bench watching the work-elves rebuilding the curtain wall. “It will take a few more months but at least the elflings can use the end terrace now,” I said. The light breeze played in my hair, and Anor’s light shone so bright that I shaded my eyes with my hand.

 

“You have done marvellously. I am so glad you threatened to have the Castle Finance Committee executed, it certainly stung them into action.” He turned towards me and smiled. “I was angry that day; however, I thought you were the sexiest being that walked Middle-earth when you did that. When I was away, the thought of that one moment kept me going when time was dragging. You were so powerful.”

 

“I still am. I am Oropher and all that comes with him.”

 

“I hope we are not going to use ten different knives for fish again?”

 

“Of course it does. You love etiquette as much as I do.” What a thing to ask!

 

“And like you, I enjoy breaking it.” Círdan pulled me closer. He put his arms around me and kissed me until we were both breathless.

 

It was so amusing to see the passing courtiers looking in all directions except ours!

 

 

 

**Part 132 – Catching an arrow and looking pretty damn good!**

 

   


This morning I caught an arrow with my bare hand as it whizzed a whispers’ breadth away from my head. The unique sound of the swiftly moving missile alerted my senses to the danger and my hand caught it before it could penetrate the back of my neck. My anger knows no bounds. When I find the one responsible I will kill them. They will know the wrath of Oropher.

 

 

Why do others keep trying to kill me? Why also, do they do it in front of my elflings?

 

 

Cireolas started to cry. I had to pick him up; he was so frightened, and it was quite a while before he calmed down. The twins stared with their mouths open, shocked and disbelieving. Their nannies held onto them, standing together with Jeli and Ereodan in-between them, to shield them from possible attack. I said that the danger had passed and moved quickly back into their school room, so that they would feel safe again.

 

 

Our bodyguards gave chase but no one was found. I know that Círdan will insist that our guards are doubled and he will wonder quite loudly, as he always does, why others keep trying to assassinate me. I am not looking forward to the next few hours.

 

 

I gave Cireolas to Orophin, when he calmed down, and took the twins in my arms. “Ada, are you going to kill the one who fired the arrow at you?” Ereodan asked, his eyes full of excitement.

 

 

“Whoever it was will have a fair trial and then be executed.”

 

 

“What is the point of a trial if you are going to execute him anyway?” Jeli asked, her eyes shining. “Why don’t you just kill him? That is what I would do. Why don’t you dig a knife in his gizzards and twist it round until he bleeds to death?”

 

 

“Jeli!” I said, mildly shocked. “We have to be seen to be fair.”

 

 

The twins gleefully discussed how I could dispatch the one who had tried to murder me. Cireolas remained frightened, even though he was calm, and so I gave the twins back to their nannies and picked him up again.

 

 

Cireolas began to cry. Tears streamed down his cheeks. “What if you dead and Ada Círdan die too?”

 

 

“The Valar protect me and your Ada Círdan. They let me know the arrow was coming so I could catch it.” I rubbed his back, hoping to calm him.

 

 

“What if one day they not looking?” Cireolas’ breathing caught and his tiny arms wrapped tightly around my neck.

 

 

“That won’t happen. The Valar always watch those they have blessed. They can see everywhere on Middle-earth at once.” I looked at the twins. “Stop laughing at him, you two.”

 

 

They were sniggering behind my back. I heard them impersonating Cireolas. They had both lived through excessive amounts of danger in their former lives; after the initial reaction of shock and surprised fear they found the whole experience exhilarating.

 

 

Círdan burst through the door in an absolute frenzy of rage, but it was not aimed at any of us so that was all right. “Are you all right?” Cireolas started crying again. He took him from me and tried to reassure him that we were all safe. His face was red and he looked as though he might explode, he was so angry. “That’s it. I am doubling the guard around you all. I will not have my elflings put at risk, nor you.”

 

 

It is no good arguing with him when he is like this, and so I agreed that it was the best course of action. In time he would forget and ease up on his decision; he always does. “The warriors were unable to find the one who aimed the arrow at me. I caught it in my hand.”

 

 

“Is it hurt?” Círdan asked while pulling my hand to him and examining it.

 

 

“I caught the arrow as it was whizzing towards me. I heard it, turned around and caught it before it hit. I am unhurt.”

 

 

“You did not go with the warriors to investigate, did you?” he asked. I nodded. “Thank the Valar you showed some sense. They could have aimed another arrow at you, and you might not have been so lucky this time.”

 

 

“I caught an arrow that was aimed from behind. The Valar have given back my old gifts. That was one of my abilities.”

 

 

“Ah!” Sudden realisation flooded Círdan's face. “That means we can play the game with...”

 

 

“Not in front of our elflings!”

 

 

The events of the past half hour had told heavily upon Cireolas. He rubbed his eyes as he told Círdan how scared he was. Círdan encompassed him in his heavily, muscular arms and held tightly. He fell asleep shortly after.

 

 

“Why do you think someone tried to kill you, Ada?” Jeli asked, her wily little face the picture of innocence.

 

 

“Probably because I threatened to execute the members of the Castle Finance Committee if they did not hurry up and engage someone to build the curtain wall.”

 

 

“You are probably not that safe to be around,” Ereodan remarked, grinning when Jeli sniggered.

 

 

“I hope you two are not being naughty.” I raised my eyebrows.

 

 

“Do I have the face of a naughty princess?” Jeli is she is such a minx.

 

 

Círdan and I both laughed as she glared at us. Our attention was diverted by Ereodan who announced that he could put his foot in his mouth. We looked at him; he was noisily sucking his big toe.

 

 

“I can do that too,” Jeli said, her nose out of joint. “I do it better than him as well.”

 

 

“It must be time for Jeli to have a nap,” Círdan said to me.

 

 

“No, I will be good.” She used her most plaintive voice and put her thumb in her mouth, looking very hard done by, and even managing to squeeze out a small fake tear. I took her from her nanny, held her head to my chest, and stroked her back.

 

 

“Listen to my heart beat, little one. Can you hear it?” She nodded and shortly afterwards fell asleep. It is an old trick, which I used many a time with Thranduil when he was a small elfling and needed to sleep. It works every time.

 

 

“I don’t need to sleep; I am not tired.” Ereodan announced, and then made us laugh by saying that he was rather interested in his toes.

 

 

“Come on,” Círdan said. “Let us go up to our rooms.”

 

 

One of the nannies’ held Ereodan and led the way out of the room. There were no further threats on the way to our apartment. Círdan placed Jeli on the deep sofa and put a pillow beside her so she could not roll off. Cireolas was laid at the opposite end, and Ereodan, who was now asleep, was placed upon a chair. I stood up and stretched.

 

 

“Ereolas,” Círdan shouted from the bedroom.

 

 

I ran in because it sounded urgent and could not believe what I saw. Both mine and Círdan’s pillow had a dagger through it. One of them held a note saying that our days were numbered.

 

 

“Well at least we have some idea who it was.” Cirdan grinned and looked at me. “Odd that they should wish to kill me too; it is normally only you who is subject to murderous intentions.”

 

 

“Perhaps they did not want you to feel left out.”

 

 

I held the blade in my hand and smiled. I knew exactly where it had come from and why we were targeted. Some people are so incredibly stupid.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	46. Part 133 – Making Plans for War on Land and at Sea. Part 134 – Cireolas is Naughty – We Knew it Couldn’t Last! Part 135 – Badly Behaved Elflings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are being made against a settlement along the coast. Cireolas is really, really naughty! Lady Aglarien brings the twins back from their visit to the cells.

 

**Part 133 – Making Plans for War on Land and at Sea.**

 

 

We are almost one hundred percent certain that the one who tried to kill me belonged to a colony of human pirates further down the coast. They reside in a cove ringed by mountainous rocks, which makes the small plateau inaccessible by land. The seaward side offers no defences, apart from the sea itself, so they are reasonably secure. We do not take much notice of the colony, so long as they leave our ships alone. In the past, when they have attacked an elven ship Ulmo rained misfortune down upon them, thus they tend to leave us alone.

 

It is inconceivable that the community could have flourished for so long without at least a minimal access to land. Indeed, there have been reports of highwaymen inland from where they live. This is of note because some of the stolen jewellery has surfaced in the rowdier Mithlond taverns.

 

The reasoning behind blaming the pirates is because both knives were scratched with the secret insignia of the head pirate, Blackheart Jack Lash, which means they are his personal property. He has such a fanciful name! Also, the handwriting on the note contained the little curlicues so beloved of the pirate fraternity.

 

This poses a question: is Jack openly declaring war on us or is someone doing it in his name to cause friction between our communities?  Whoever planted the knives in our pillows knew that we would recognise the tiny marks denoting ownership. We can do nothing except treat the incident as an act of war and conduct ourselves accordingly. Already, Círdan and I have sent spies to the outlying lands near the pirate stronghold. They will examine any faults in the rocks, ground and rivers that might indicate a secret passage to the cove. Another team of spies will go into the forest and look for trees and banks that may not be all they seem. Finally, preparations will be made to ready our fleet of rarely used warships so that we can maintain a presence at sea as well as on land. We intend to maintain a blockade, after considering the intelligence reports, so that the pirates cannot go to sea; this should flush them through their underground passages, like the rats they are, and reveal their hiding places.

 

The landlords of the Mithlond taverns, who trade with the pirates, are languishing in the dungeon cells and await some intense questioning. No doubt they thought we had no idea about their nefarious activities. As I write, a letter is travelling to Erestor, asking if he is available to help counter this attack on the realm. He will not be able to resist, and will particularly enjoy matching wits with the wrongdoers. Indeed, he is extremely effective at extracting information. Recently, he terrified the human warriors so badly, after the elflings were kidnapped, that I doubt many of them will sleep with the light off ever again. The only one to come out unscathed from that incident was the seventeen year old trainee warrior. He was released as soon as he arrived here, because he had not taken part in the action and had babysat the elflings quite well.  I have also sent a letter to my ion, Thranduil. Several times he has expressed his longing to witness a sea battle. Lastly, I mentioned what was happening in my weekly letter to Mel and Glorfindel. I know that curiosity will get the better of them.

 

Because we are not entirely sure of the direction, or the exact nature of the threat, we are limited in our actions until we find out more. We have no way of communicating with the pirates ordinarily, nor are we able to send our spies into the pirate cove. They treat elves with the utmost suspicion and have been known to kill them on occasion. Therefore, we have no choice but to make a strong presence with our ships.

 

Palace security is also being examined. The drawbridge is up, only to be let down for recognised visitors. Passage through the grounds is seriously limited. No longer does the portcullis remain high, to welcome those who seek free entrance to visit or trade within our walls.

 

Angaráto has posed that the assassin might have sailed under the cover of night and climbed the rock face below the castle with ropes and grappling irons in the very early hours of the morning. The curtain wall is still under construction and the new lookout towers are not yet safe to enter as they are only half built. Our warriors pace up and down the terraces, but are their view of the sea is limited because Ithil has been hidden by clouds for the past week and it has been raining. We all know that criminals do not get up early in the morning and never go out in the rain, right? No doubt the warriors were under the same misapprehension as they huddled around the brazier in the builders tent. It seems all too likely that the one who tried to kill me, scaled the rock face and climbed over the unfinished curtain wall, relying on the dark unlit night and the pounding rain to hide any noise he might make. Silimaurë agrees with Angaráto and is questioning those who were on guard that night. I doubt he will find out anything constructive though.

 

There is nothing more to do than wait. Although we cannot do so for too long; the enemy might consider us to be prevaricating and showing cowardice. I am so looking forward to the next few weeks. I have not been in battle for a long time. Whenever I go into battle I get the most outrageous stiffy. I really do hope this situation is settled by less peaceful means.

 

Círdan walked into our formal sitting room with two tailors. They have run up a new uniform for me, for when we sail. I did not realise that I would be on one of the warships. I am terribly excited, having never participated in a sea battle. I do hope we get to enjoy a massive sword fight on deck.

 

“Meleth, why do we have to dress up to go to sea?” I asked as I fastened the jacket. There was lots of royal blue, butter-soft suede, and gold brocade, with just the right amount of white elsewhere.

 

“We are Sea Lords,” he said quite seriously. “When we go to sea we have to look the part.”

 

“Oh. I thought you wanted me to indulge your uniform fetish.” Perhaps I should have waited until we were alone to say it.

 

“And that too.” Círdan gave me the most lascivious grin before taking me in his arms.

 

 

 

**Part 134 – Cireolas is Naughty – We Knew it Couldn’t Last!**

 

 

Círdan kissed me in front of the two tailors who were making the final fittings for the uniform he had ordered for me. I hope they had the decency to avert their gaze. He is incredibly affectionate towards me lately, so much so that I am beginning to think that he should sail to Valinor and back more often. I would miss him terribly if he did, but I am enjoying all the extra attention.

 

After the uniform fitting we went to even more meetings about the war we will declare on whoever tried to kill me. There was talk of sending the elflings to Mirkwood to keep them safe, but I refused. Cireolas is frightened enough, and he would be distraught if he thought that he might not see either of us again. He was behaving very well until yesterday, when he threw the most incredible fit of temper. Obviously, he is not handling the stress of what happened very well and needs lots of reassurance.

 

After today’s meeting I went to collect the elflings so they could take lunch with us. Círdan went to the dining hall to order the food so that it was there by the time we turned up. I heard Cireolas’ voice before entering the school room. He did not see me at first and hurled pots of paint on the floor and yelled at Orophin who spoke softly to him and did not move from his chair. Then he threw the brush rinsing water over him. Orophin remained still and asked Cireolas if he thought that his parents would approve of his behaviour.

 

“Fuck off...” Cireolas screamed, and threw a stuffed toy goat at his nanny who was watching. “I throw one at you too if you don’t stop talking to me.” He looked around wildly, no doubt trying to locate a convenient toy missile.

 

I stayed in the background, watching to see what would happen next.

 

“Come and tell me what is bothering you, little one.” Orophin held his arms out.

 

Cireolas punched Orophin in the eye as he picked him up and swore at him again. I noticed the twins avidly watching and sniggering at his antics. It had gone far enough. “Cireolas,” I said loudly as Orophin caught his tiny fist, which was about to hit him again.

 

He jumped, and so he should have done. “Who made this mess?”

 

“It not me,” he shouted defiantly. “It him.” The little squirt pointed at Orophin, who gave Cireolas a disapproving look.

 

I told the nannies to take Ereodan and Jeli to the dining hall and tell Círdan that Cireolas and I would be delayed. The twins tried to look innocent, but I was not fooled and told them that if I saw them sniggering at Cireolas’ antics ever again they would be in as much trouble as their brother was now. I looked down at Cireolas. “You are going to clean this mess up.”

 

“He is very upset about the events of the other day,” Orophin said. “His naughty behaviour is because he does not know how to handle what happened.”

 

“Yes, I know. He still has to face the consequences of his actions though.” Poor Orophin’s eye was closing and blackening fast. Who would have thought that my little one could punch so effectively? “My friend, why don’t you change your clothing and I will have a healer sent to you?” Cireolas chose that moment to kick me on the leg; I ignored it and so he did it again. “I will deal with the orc spawn and leave him in no doubt that he cannot attack just because he feels like it.”

 

“I not orc spawn,” Cireolas shouted and punched my knee. I ignored him.

 

Orophin grinned and knelt down to Cireolas’ level. “Have fun cleaning up, little one.” He smiled indulgently when my horrid little ion subjected him to a tirade of abuse.

 

“Were your elflings ever this badly behaved?” I asked.

 

He laughed. “Can you see Mir letting them be even remotely naughty?” He had a point.

 

“Perhaps she should have come with you.” I smiled and moved my leg just before Cireolas’ foot could connect with it again. “I will bring my recalcitrant kids along tomorrow. No lessons today; your eye is more important. Who would have known that this little brat could hit so hard? I will have to watch his behaviour from now on.”

 

Orophin left the room. “Start cleaning,” I ordered, and gave Cireolas a cloth.

 

He started to cry and said that he was a prince and shouldn’t have to clean up. “Do it!” I ordered firmly.

 

Cireolas made a few ineffectual wipes with the cloth, which achieved nothing. A servant came in with a mop and bucket. He looked at her and whimpered, “It not fair. I have to clean up my own mess.”

 

“We all have to clean up our own mess,” she replied.

 

“But I am prince,” he said. “You just cleaner. You clean my mess up now!”

 

“Absolutely not,” I boomed, only just holding my temper. “How dare you talk to Maerwen like that.”

 

“I prince,” Cireolas yelled. “I say what I want!”

 

“Maerwen, do not clean this mess up, and do not let anyone else do it either. Cireolas is going to clean it up if it kills me.”

 

Cireolas spent the next half hour cleaning the floor and the chair. His bottom lip poked out so far he could have used it as an apron. I surreptitiously helped him along a bit as I did not want to be in the schoolroom all afternoon.

 

When all was clean, I took Cireolas’ hand and led him out of the room. “You are still in trouble.” I was not terribly surprised when he kicked me hard on the leg and swore at me. He reminded me of Mel when he was a small elfling. He stabbed my leg with a fork in the dining room. I was only a baby, but I remember Erestor dragging Mel out of the Hall of Fire to take him back to our rooms. Mel aimed kicks at Erestor’s legs all the way back to the room. When Ada closed the door to the apartment he exploded with rage and yelled Mel for several minutes. I was not there, but Mel told me what happened. I do not intend shouting at Cireolas though, he is not doing this because he is naughty but because he is still frightened.

 

I ran the bath and told Cireolas to sit on the bench as I did it. The fire was leaving him, and he became very quiet. I could hear him worriedly sucking his thumb. Tears coursed down his cheeks, leaving salty run lines. He wiped them away with his hand. Lavender oil is calming, so I poured some into the water after the bath had run. 

 

“Get undressed.” Cireolas tried to remove his Hello Vampire, ‘Unca Mel’ pink, green and orange jumper but was too upset to do it properly, so I helped him. I stripped down to my loin cloth and helped him remove the rest of his clothing. We stepped into the warm water and sat down. After washing his face with the flannel, I put my arms around him. “Tell me why you were naughty this morning.”

 

He began to cry again. “I not mean to be naughty.” He could hardly say the words he was so distraught.

 

“I know,” I soothed, as I stroked his little baby head.

 

“I not know how to stop being naughty.” He put his thumb in his mouth and then took it out again. “I not want it to happen. It happen and I not able to stop.”

 

“You know you are not allowed to swear, don’t you?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“From where did you hear such words?”

 

“Not remember.” Cireolas snuggled his head against my chest. “Why you got earring in your chest?”

 

“It is something that all elves from Mirkwood have done to show that they are grown up.” I wondered where Cireolas could have heard such language. Had Círdan and I sworn within earshot of him? We always tried not to. We would have to watch ourselves to make sure. “You must not use bad words again. What would Ada Círdan say if he knew what you said to Orophin, or that you hit him and me?” I paused. “Poor Orophin has a black eye. Did he deserve a black eye?”

 

Cireolas nodded and said in a voice that I could hardly hear that he did not.

 

“I think Ada Círdan will be awfully embarrassed at your behaviour and extremely disappointed in you.” I did not raise my voice because I did not want my already upset ion to be discouraged during our discourse.

 

“We not tell Ada, please?” He started to cry again. I rubbed his back and spoke soothingly to him while he calmed down, telling him that we could not lie to Círdan if he found out. “He make me not prince anymore if he find out.”

 

“You should worry more about how Ada will feel. From now on, if you are worried about something, or need to talk about anything that is worrying you, it would be better to ask Orophin if you can come and see me rather than making a mess of the schoolroom and upsetting yourself.”

 

“Will he let me?”

 

“Of course he will. Orophin understands better than anyone if an elfling needs his ada.”

 

“Will you tell him I can see you if I got to see you?”

 

“Of course I will. Now let’s wash your hair.” We sat in the bath for a short while longer before getting out. When we dried off, I helped Cireolas put his pyjamas on and then put a fresh set of day clothing on myself.

 

“It not night. Why I wear jammies?”

 

“I am sending you to bed early because you were naughty. Even though we know why you were naughty and that you could not stop once you had started being so, it was very wrong to behave like that. It takes a first step to be naughty, and if you do not make that step you will never get into a situation you cannot control.”

 

“I not want to go to bed.” The tears formed in his big blue eyes.

 

“You are very tired.” I wrapped a thick blanket around his body. “If you had not been so tired you would not have been so naughty.”

 

“I play outside instead?” Cireolas asked hopefully. I smiled, holding his head close to my chest.

 

“We will sit by the fire and have a cuddle.” After kissing the top of his head, I lay down on the sofa with a pillow under my head. Cireolas yawned and sucked his thumb. A few minutes later he was fast asleep.

 

Not long afterwards, I heard the door open. Círdan knelt down and kissed me. He stroked Cireolas’ head and smiled. “Jeli and Ereodan lost no time in telling me what happened. I think they might have egged him on a bit.”

 

“That would not surprise me.” I slowly rose from the sofa, so that Cireolas would not wake.

 

“Stay there and I will get the day bed.” Círdan collected it from the balcony. He spread a sheet over the mattress and I laid Cireolas upon it. He started to stir, so I stayed close, whispering that he was alright and I was with him. When he had dropped off again Círdan covered him with the baby quilt from his bed.

 

We sat down on the sofa and snuggled up in front of the fire. “I know where Cireolas’ bad language comes from.”

 

“Where?”

 

“Ereodan and Jeli have mouths’ fouler than a bunch of sailor’s on a ship in a storm. Jeli can swear just as effectively in Quenya as she can in Sindarin, and Ereodan is not far behind her.” Círdan sighed. “I heard them talking in their bedroom this morning. When I asked if they were being naughty, they said that they were not. I did not want to wake Cireolas and so I told them I would be speaking to them later on. Jeli whispered to Ereodan that I was a silly old fossil.”

 

“They are so in trouble. Poor Cireolas is being punished and they are playing outside this afternoon.”

 

“No they are not.” My wonderful husband grinned. “They are spending the afternoon visiting the cells with Lady Aglarien. She is impressing upon them how they have to be good, or else. She offered when they were rude to her.”

 

“What did they say to her?” I asked, dreading the answer.

 

“They had nearly come to the end of gleefully informing me about Cireolas' behaviour in the schoolroom. When they said he had to stay behind and clean up his mess, Aglarien said they should have cleaned up as well because they had obviously encouraged him. Jeli looked at her and said, ‘Are the opinions of a Lady worth anything when applied to a princess?’ Of course Ereodan piped up that they were not, and then they both sniggered. I was so angry with them; however, Lady Aglarien suggested that she take them down to the cells to show them where naughty elflings go. They sneered at her, until I said that if they continued being naughty they would have to spend the night there, on their own and without food or drink.”

 

“I am so angry with them. How dare they be so rude.”

 

“Well they are not very happy at the moment.” My wonderful husband grinned. “I have taken their titles away!”

 

 

 

**Part 135 – Badly Behaved Elflings**

 

 

Lady Aglarien brought the twins back late in the afternoon, after thoroughly scaring them in the cells. When they came back they were quiet and avoided looking at me.

 

“They were so rude that I put them in a cell and left them there for five minutes with no light,” Agie said to me, before staring at the twins with a superior look. “I presume they were the most horrid elves in their former lives because I know you and Lord Círdan would not tolerate any naughtiness like that. One only has to look at how normally well behaved Cireolas is to know that.”

 

I glared at the twins. They put their heads down and looked away.

 

“How is Cireolas?” Agie asked pleasantly.

 

“He is still frightened, but seems a bit brighter in himself. I put him in the bath and he had a short nap afterwards. When he woke, I took him to the healing rooms to see Elrohir. He is going to teach him about efficacious herbs.”

 

“A sleep was probably what he needed,” Agie said.

 

The servant delivered a tray of tea and cakes, thus reminding me that I had missed lunch. “Shall I be Nana?” I poured the bergamot infused tea into the bone china cups. Thin slices of lemon floated on the surface. This was accompanied by small pink and yellow cakes wrapped in marzipan. I have heard tell of a baby girl in one of the human villages who has been christened Marzipan, because her parents liked the sound of the word. Sadly idiotic names are becoming quite fashionable among humans. Do they not realise that the elves howl with laughter every time they do something like that? How awful for the child to be saddled with a name that causes amusement.

 

We sat sipping our tea and pleasantly chatting, whilst studiously ignoring the twins, who chatted to each other in a little used Quenya sub-dialect about how spiteful and mean we were. “Be quiet,” I ordered. “The Lady Aglarien might not know what you are saying but I can understand every word.” I looked at Agie. “They think we are cruel because we will not give them cake.”

 

“How the minds of untitled elflings work.”

 

“I do not think that I want to be in the same room as untitled elflings. Do you Lady Aglarien?”

 

“No certainly not. The very thought is appalling.”

 

Círdan walked through the door and smiled at us. “So they are back then?”

 

“Ada,” Jeli called out. “They are being cruel to us. Aren’t they Ereodan?” She pointed her little baby finger at us. Ereodan agreed.

 

 “Well we cannot have that, can we?” Círdan said to them. The twins smirked at Agie and me. “I think I will just have to put you both to bed.”

 

“NO!” Jeli yelled angrily. “PUT ADA TO BED INSTEAD. WE ARE BEING GOOD.”

 

“JELI,” Círdan said sternly. “How dare you shout at me.” He picked both twins up and took them to their bedrooms. They protested loudly. “In bed for the rest of the day.”

 

Círdan came back into the room and pulled the bell for the servants to bring more tea. “I don’t know why they are being so naughty lately.”

 

“They are teething. Not that it excuses their rudeness.”

 

“When Cireolas was teething he cried constantly. I do not recall him being rude though.”

 

“He is not reborn,” Agie suggested.

 

“Maybe. I put Jeli and Ereodan in their separate rooms so they cannot plot together.” Círdan grinned. “Where are there nannies?”

 

“I gave them a free afternoon,” I replied. Círdan scowled. “They do have the right to time off. I believe they have an assignation with three of our warriors.”

 

“A triple date,” Agie suggested.

 

“Or a sixsome.”

 

“Only you could think of something like that.” Agie laughed.

 

“Not true. Any ellon would have thought the same thing.” Círdan gave her a knowing smile.

 

“I will have to ask Angaráto,” Agie teased. “I am sure you are wrong though.”

 

“I am never wrong,” Círdan smirked. “Ereolas will disagree, but in his heart he knows it is true.”

 

“I am saying nothing.”

 

The servant delivered a second tray of tea and cakes. Círdan poured some tea into his cup.

 

“Ellith are right all the time,” Agie told Círdan. “Just ask Angaráto. He knows that I am always correct, even when I am not.”

 

“By logical deduction, Círdan is always right and so are ellith, which must mean that my husband is really an elleth.” I smiled widely as Círdan glared malevolently at me.

 

“I will show you that I am not an elleth when Lady Aglarien is gone.”

 

“You are the one with the milk,” Aglarien, the minx, taunted as she looked at me.

 

“I believe it is drying up.” That told her!

 

“I certainly hope not!” Círdan said a little too rapidly, which caused me to chuckle. Realising his possible faux pas he added that the babies would benefit from feeding for some time yet. I wonder doubt Lady Aglarien was fooled by him.

 

The door opened. Elrohir walked in with Cireolas in his arms. My little ion held a book titled, ‘The Baby Book of Herbs’, which had a book mark sticking out from between the pages.

 

“I learn Afas,” Círdan said excitedly to me. “I know what it do.”

 

“Say after me, a-the-las.” Elrohir mouthed the word so that Cireolas could see his lips.

 

“Is what I said,” Cireolas assured him. He looked at me. “I love Erra.”

 

“Elrohir,” I corrected him.

 

“I said that,” Cireolas replied and looked at me as if I was simple.

 

“Well I love you too,” Elrohir said to his baby soul mate. He kissed him and swung him upside down by his ankles. “Shall I wash the floor with Cireolas’ hair?”

 

“Yes, yes,” My little one screeched. “Swing me around.”

 

Círdan joined in the fun by inviting Elrohir to throw Cireolas to him. Agie watched with a big grin on her face.

 

“I flying,” Cireolas squealed as he was thrown to Círdan. I hate watching when they do that. I always think that they are going to drop Cireolas or not catch him. It has never happened but there is always a first time.

 

“I am going to check the naughty ones.” I left the rooms, hoping Cireolas would be all right.

 

Normally the twins share a cot to maintain their closeness; however, Círdan had put them in their own rooms to separate them. I went to see Ereodan first, he was snivelling.

 

“Stop crying now,” I said softly as I picked him up. My hand stroked his soft blond hair.

 

“I miss Jeli.” He started to cry even louder.

 

“You and Jeli have both been very rude and naughty. Do you think that Ada Círdan and I are proud of you when you do things like that?” He shook his head. “Then why do you do it?”

 

“I don’t know.” He wiped his baby snot on my shoulder.

 

“As long as you continue to be a bad influence on each other, you will not be able to share the same bedroom. You both make things bad for yourself. All you need to do is not be naughty and life will be much nicer.”

 

“Could I try not being naughty now?”

 

“Well if you are, I will put you straight back to bed. Lady Aglarien is in the next room. I think you know what to do?”

 

I took Ereodan into the living room and gave him to Círdan. “Ereodan has told me that he would like to try being good because he doesn’t want to be naughty anymore.”

 

“I am sorry, Ada,” Ereodan said, little tears spilling over his lower lids. Then he looked at Agie and apologised to her too. She gave him a kiss and told him he was forgiven.

 

“Did you tell him to apologise?” Círdan asked.

 

“Of course not.” Through our connection I berated him for saying it. I did not want Ereodan discouraged. Círdan apologised.

 

“Errudan, look!” Cireolas screeched. “I flying.” It broke the tension. My little baby watched his brother flying through the air and being caught by Elrohir.

 

“I want to do that.” Ereodan pointed to his brother, who was squealing loudly whenever he flew through the air.

 

“When you are bigger. You are a bit too small at the moment.”

 

“How old do I have to be?”

 

“As old as Cireolas is now."

 

We sat next to Agie and watched Cireolas being thrown between Círdan and Elrohir. He screeched with laughter and we laughed along with him. Ereodan was enthralled and could not stop excitedly telling me that he would one day be as big as his brother.

 

We carried on for the next hour enjoying the fun. Círdan checked Jeli and she was asleep, so he left her in the bedroom. No one wanted to wake her in view of her brattiness. She was more badly behaved than her brother, and needed to learn that certain behaviour was not acceptable, especially if it led others to being badly behaved as well.

 

Ereodan ended up on Agie’s lap, so I could take part in swinging Cireolas around by his ankles. Now Ereodan could see how much fun was to be had if he was good. I noticed that Agie was soaking little tiny pieces of cake in tea and feeding them to him. He ate them eagerly.

 

I love playing with my children. It is a shame that Jeli prefers misbehaving. Still, I am consistent and so is Círdan. She will learn.

 

 


	47. Part 136 – Running Through the Storm.  Part 137 – I am Still Legolas’ Ion. Part 138 – The Council of War.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeli is teething. Legolas arrives in Mithlond and is not pleased. Ereolas and Círdan make plans for war.

 

 

**Part 136 – Running Through the Storm.**

 

I do not know if Cireolas’ squeals of laughter woke Jeli, but after a particularly loud screech I heard the faint sound of her crying. “Ignore her,” Círdan said. “It will teach her a lesson.” She had been sent to bed, to have a nap, because of her atrocious behaviour.

 

“You cannot go around ignoring babies, even if they are called Jeli.” I laughed.

 

“Rather you than me,” Círdan hauled Cireolas upright from his hanging by the ankles position. I heard Cireolas chuckling as he asked Círdan to hang him upside down again and swing him around.

 

My tiny iell was in her cot crying. I picked her up and put her down again, almost immediately, because she was wet and pooey. “Ada, don’t leave me here,” she cried out in panic.

 

“I am getting your changing mat and wash bowl.” After lining everything up, I lifted my smelly elfling up. “Why are you still crying?” I asked softly; she seemed very distressed.

 

“My mouth hurts and I am cold and wet,” she managed to say after several attempts; so distress was she that hardly a word could come from her mouth as she cried.

 

Jeli was washed and dried. After giving her a clean nappy I wrapped her in a thick blanket and held her close. “Are you feeling warmer, little one?” She buried her head in my shoulder and cried harder.

 

“Sch, sch,sch...” I soothed while stroking her head. “Show me where your mouth hurts.” At the front of her mouth, on the bottom set of gums, were two red, inflamed bumps accompanied by patches of white over her tongue and inside cheeks. Her lower face was covered with a fine red rash and swollen. She looked thoroughly miserable.

 

I remember when Thranduil was teething. He cried a lot of the time and drove Alatáriël to distraction in the two hours a day he visited her. “Why doesn’t he shut up?” she asked me, as if I had suggested to him that he should cry when he was with her. “Take him away, I cannot stand the noise. Bring him back when he has stopped crying.”

 

I took him away and did not return him until his two bottom teeth came through. For the week his teeth were trying to make an appearance he was inconsolable. Every time I put him down he screamed. He wanted me, not his nanny or his nana, but me. It was most trying, but he felt more miserable than I did, and it is a compliment really that I was the only one he wanted to hold him.

 

Several times I sat on my throne, feeling half asleep, with the fractious Thranduil on my lap. I used to pray to the Valar that he would sleep, but during that period he hardly ever did. Saelir tried his best to ease Thranduil’s discomfort, but the sleeping draughts he gave him made Thranduil even more miserable because he tried to stay awake. Then one morning I realised that I had slept through the night. Thranduil had not woken me. I looked in his cot, by the side of my bed, and he was sleeping peacefully. Running my fingers over his gum, I could feel two sharp little teeth.

 

That day Thranduil was happy and laughing, but even he remembered that his nana had not seen him all the time while he was in pain. Elfling babies have so much more understanding and memory than human ones, and sometimes it is a curse.  Thranduil would not let his nana hold him for several days and she became quite upset. I rather sanctimoniously told her that it was her own fault. My ion loved his nana, but one day he said to me, just before I died the first time, “You were always there for me. You always made me feel that you loved me and so I always knew you did.” I replied that I still loved him and would always do so. I have kept that promise.

 

Jeli quietened. “You are getting your baby teeth,” I told her. “It always hurts when the first ones come through.”

 

“I want it to go away,” she whined. “Ada, make it go away.”

 

“We will go to the healers and they can have a look.” We made our way to her dressing room to find some nice leggings for her to wear; her jumper was still clean, and even a ruler has to think of the servants who wash the clothing. She picked a pair of quilted, pink-velvet dungarees with little bunnies on, a pair of knitted, silk tights and soft padded slippers. After putting a thick cardigan on her and wrapping her in two thick blankets we were ready to go.

 

“Jeli is not well, Meleth,” I told Círdan. “Look at her face.”

 

She was whimpering and looking quite unwell. “She looked fine before. How is she so suddenly ill? Do you think taking her to the cells might have done it?”

 

“No, she is teething. She has thrush as well.”

 

Elrohir wandered over with Cireolas and peered at Jeli, who was still snivelling. “Some babies get thrush when they are teething,” he said more for Círdan’s benefit than for mine.

 

“Cireolas didn’t,” Círdan said.

 

“It is simply treated.” Elrohir grinned; Cireolas was tickling his ear and making animal noises. “Take him to the healer. Elladan is on today. He might be free.” He turned his face to Cireolas and told him to stop tickling him or else he would tie him to a kite and make him fly in the rain.

 

“Do it, do it,” my mad little ion replied enthusiastically.

 

It was pouring down outside. I went down the secret back stairs to the ground level and ran across to the healing rooms with the inside of my coat sheltering Jeli, who continued to cry. The rain was driving; hitting the ground so hard that each drop rose back into the air by about six inches before falling back to the ground. Nearby, about twenty foot away and just in front of the curtain wall, shot a bolt of forked lightening, followed shortly after by the roar of thunder. Jeli screamed because the noise scared her. I quickly opened the door to be greeted by a blast of heat.

 

Inside the healing rooms it was warm and smelt of fresh lavender. A big open fire blazed at the back of the room. Two healers and one of Círdan’s sailors sat toasting bread on long forks.

 

“Elladan,” I said, aware that I was dripping onto the tiled stone floor. “Jeli is not well.”

 

Elladan had already left his chair. He peered through the folds of the blanket at Jeli’s tiny face. “She has thrush.” He opened her mouth. “Caused by teething.”

 

“Yes. I know. She was fine when she went to sleep this afternoon.”

 

“It often comes on swiftly. Don’t worry; it will go just as fast.” He disappeared into a back room. Jeli and I sat by the fire.

 

Because I am a caring ruler I asked the sailor how he was feeling. He replied that he would soon be better. I told him how brave I thought he was. He was washed overboard on the last trip from Valinor and attacked by a shark, even though sea animals are not supposed to eat elves by order of Lord Ulmo. He would have died if he had not punched it on the nose and stab it in both eyes. As it was, he was a mass of bites, bruises, broken bones and jagged cuts. It is because Elladan is such a good healer that he is alive. Elrond told me that neither of his ionen were as good as he hoped. I would say that was true about Elrohir, but now Elladan has been given a position of responsibility he is extremely good, although he is the first to admit he would rather be a warrior.

 

Jeli continued to cry. “Ada, make him hurry. My mouth hurts.” Her tears dripped onto my hand as I held her.

 

“Elladan will not be long. He has to make the medicine.”

 

She put her thumb in her mouth and took it out again. “It hurts when I suck my thumb." I stroked her head and tried to soothe her, but she carried on crying.

 

“Here we are.” Elladan drew a chair up beside us. He told Jeli to open her mouth and dripped some liquid on her gums and tongue with the help of a tiny spoon. Next, he put some white cream on her cheeks. Then he gave both pots to me. “Use three of these little spoons in Jeli’s mouth and put this cream on her cheeks every eight hours. Are you still feeding her?”

 

Why don’t you ask me in front of the others, Elladan? I thought. “Yes,” I replied. The others were too well mannered to snigger, but I knew when I left the Healing Rooms they would howl with laughter.

 

“Put some of the cream on your nipples before feeding. Wash them after feeding and put some more cream on, or else you could give it to Ereodan as well.”

 

“Are you feeling any better little one?” Jeli said she still felt awful but her gums did not hurt so much.

 

“Have some tea and toast with us. The rain is still too hard to go out in.” He handed me a long fork with a slice of bread studded through the prongs.

 

Lightning lit up the rooms and thunder crashed overhead as if to confirm Elladan's words. Jeli shook with alarm but at least she did not cry.

 

We stayed for the next half an hour. Jeli brightened up considerably, so I gave her some of my lavender tea. In the end, the rain died down enough for us to make our way outside and quickly run to the secret staircase that led to our apartment. It was set in for the day and showed no signs of stopping. Indeed, the afternoon was darkening further and I knew it would be a stormy night. I would be in Círdan’s arms by that time, so I was looking forward to it.

 

We ran across the grass after saying goodbye to the healers and the sailor. I had to yank the door hard to the secret stairs. The wood had swollen in the rain, but once we were inside it was dry and sheltered. The stairs led to the bathroom in our apartment and my bedroom was just up the hallway. I placed Jeli on the bed while I dried myself with a towel; she seemed have hardly any rain on her but I was soaked.

 

My family were still in the private sitting room, and so were Elrohir and Lady Aglarien. They were telling jokes and reminiscing about old times, much to the delight of Ereodan and Cireolas who laughed at the things Mel and I did when elflings.

 

The fire was hot and crackling. I sat down and gave Jeli to Círdan. “Elladan gave me some stuff for her.” I shivered. “She seems to be in less pain now.”

 

“She is asleep,” Círdan said softly and smiled. “Look at her.”

 

Agie poured me some tea. I sipped it gratefully. “Thank you. It is freezing out there and the lightning came very close.”

 

The door slammed open. In the doorway, dripping wet and looking unhappy, stood the wettest, most soaked through couple of elves I have ever seen in my life. “That weather should be shot,” the ellon said in a loud voice as he ushered another elf into the room.

 

Who would have thought they would arrive so fast?

 

 

 

 

 

  **Part 137 – I am Still Legolas’ Ion.**

 

 

Círdan helped Merilnis off with her long leather cloak after giving Jeli to Aglarien. Thranduil took his cloak off and threw it on the floor in the hallway. Our warrior guard, who accompanied Thranduil and Merilnis to our rooms, took the coats away. Círdan, who is worried that an attack might be made against the elflings, requires that even people we know well are accompanied by the guard when they come to meet us, and that when we go anywhere with the elflings at least two warriors go with us. I know that later on he will want to discuss with me why I did not take an accompanying guard to the healing rooms when I took Jeli there; however, I will kiss him as he speaks and that should be an end to it.

 

“We were not expecting you for some time yet. It’s good to see you so quickly.”

 

“We came by eagle, Ada” Thranduil replied. “I have Saelir and Aikanáro here with us and Erestor and Legolas.”

 

“Where are they?”

 

“They went to their rooms to change. We are soaked to the skin.” Merilnis smiled at me and then said that I now looked like King Oropher as she remembered him when a young elleth. “Legolas will not be pleased.” She frowned. “Remember how he was the last time you were re-embodied?”

 

“Now, now, my love,” Círdan gave Thranduil a blanket, which he placed around her shoulders. “Legolas is still Ereolas’ ada and it is none of our business. You should not say things like that.”

 

“Legolas is my ion and I will say anything I like.” Merilnis shivered and stood nearer the fire. “I know that when you were Oropher you told me to call you Ada when my parents died, but I really do not think that I can, it would upset Legolas too much. We will be as we were before.”

 

“That is fine by me. It will help Ada as well.”

 

“Yes, unlike my husband I happen to care how my ion reacts to your new appearance.” Merilnis turned around and bent her bottom nearer the fire.

 

“I haven’t changed that much.”

 

“You have that Oropher's bearing. You did not have that before. Your body is bigger, although your face is the same. It is your kingliness that gives you away rather than anything else.” Merilnis sighed with happiness as her rear warmed up.

 

“He now has the kingliness that I have always possessed, my darling,” Thranduil teased in his silkiest voice. He ran his hand across her rump. She looked at him enquiringly. “Just warming my hand, my dear.”

 

“Not now, Thranduil. I am too cold.” Merilnis grinned. “If I remember correctly, Oropher always had a more regal bearing than you.”

 

I tittered and Círdan laughed. Thranduil’s face was a picture. Lady Aglarien merely smiled; she took a sip of her tea and then peeked at Jeli, who was fast asleep. Elrohir sat with Cireolas, who was asleep in his arms, no doubt worn out by all the play beforehand. The only child of mine awake was Ereodan, who informed a rather amused Thranduil that he had more kingly bearing than both of us put together.

 

The door opened. Erestor and Legolas walked into the room. I went over to greet them. “Hello Ada,” I said as I hugged Legolas. I said it again as I hugged Erestor.

 

“You have changed,” Legolas accused. “How is that?” I had avoided telling him, but perhaps I should have written before we met again. He did not know because Elrond and Mel had not written to him either and Thranduil, who I did tell by letter, had decided not to say a word.

 

“Manwë gave me back my old title because I killed the Kraken’s fëa. He gave me back my kingly bearing and that certain indefinable something that I had before.”

 

“What certain something?”

 

“I don’t know, it’s indefinable.”

 

“I thought Mel killed the Kraken?” Erestor said, somewhat confused, which is unusual for him.

 

“He did, but Manwë made me kill her fëa. I had to go into the Void and face Melkor, who was the Kraken’s new master and encouraging her as we battled, but I managed it. As a reward, Lord Manwë gave me my old body back, because the other one died when I said I was King Oropher. I only said it because I was unable to see very well and my feet were so badly mangled by the kraken’s children that I was stuck in a wheelchair and in constant pain.” They looked astonished, so I carried on. “He said that I was now Oropher and Ereolas sharing the same body, but I do not feel any different, and you are still both my adas in my way of thinking, anyway.”

 

“Ereolas was extremely irritable when he was in the wheelchair. He even threw his dinner at me,” Círdan told them. “I blame the nightmares he had. The Kraken attacked him every night in his dreams until he killed her fëa.”

 

“Not to mention the food tasters, the drink tasters, a personal warrior guard and the healer you had accompany me everywhere, even to the toilet.” I turned to Legolas. “I caught an arrow the other day with my hand, Ada. I could not have done that with my old body.”

 

“You should see how he runs the court sessions,” Círdan said proudly. “After Ereolas threatened to execute the Castle Finance Committee everything here has been done at double quick speed.”

 

“Sounds like my old ada,” Thranduil grinned.

 

“He is still my ion,” Legolas said darkly to his ada.

 

“Of course he is,” Merilnis agreed. “Ereolas has never denied that he is; however, he has always called your ada his ion, even when a baby.”

 

“Nana, he is bigger than before. He is bigger than me now.”

 

“It is only his body that has changed,” Merilnis soothed her whiny ion. “He is still your baby.”

 

“I don’t see that it makes any difference,” Erestor said to Legolas. “He is still Ereolas and he has changed bodies before.”

 

“It is still a shock,” Legolas replied. “And Ada is being really stupid calling Ereolas, Ada, when he is his grand ada.”

 

“Legolas,” Thranduil boomed. Legolas turned as if startled. Thranduil put his arm around his shoulders. “Just as you grieve over losing your ion, I grieved over losing my ada. I now have him back, yet he is two people to me. He is my ada and my grand ion. The Valar have already taken him away from me once before, please do not try to take him away again.” Legolas’ face was flushed and angry. Thranduil continued. “You now have your grand ada and your ion in the same body. Not many are as blessed as that.”

 

“You only have to give me one present at Yule and not two,” I said as I put my arms around Legolas. “So that you know Ada, I still think of you as my ada, and I still call myself Ereolas.”

 

“Cireolas would get confused if Ada called himself Oropher,” Ereodan called over to Legolas. “He isn’t very bright.”

 

“Should you be talking about your brother like that?” Legolas said imperiously to my baby ion.

 

“Probably not,” Ereodan replied. “But you know what it is like. Who can resist the charms of a small baby?”

 

Erestor, Merilnis and Thranduil laughed. Legolas smiled. I grinned because it lightened the moment and we could all be happy again. I pulled Legolas to me and kissed his cheek. “Cheer up, Ada.” I winked. “It could be worse. At least I am still alive and not likely to be a victim of assassination ever again.”

 

“It did get a bit too much,” Legolas agreed hugging me back. He kissed my cheek. “You will never be Oropher to me. I cannot lose my ion again.”

 

“I am still here. I promise you that I will always be here.” I gave him another hug. He remarked how strong I was now and I smiled, secretly pleased.  We were happy again and everything was right in our world.

 

 

 

 

**Part 138 – The Council of War.**

 

 

Mel and Glorfindel arrived the day after by eagle. As soon as they landed, Mel waved his hand and the clouds cleared immediately above the castle. The sun shone down while the storm continued beyond the curtain wall. We gave the eagle a dead sheep to eat and took the Mithlond letters from the post bag, replacing them with a small bundle of outgoing ones.

 

“Who has tried to kill you?” Mel asked as we made our way into the keep.

 

“Blackheart Jack Lash, the leader of the pirate colony further up the coast, or one of his followers. We have two knives with his secret mark on them and a note in his handwriting. Furthermore, a rope and grappling hooks have been found hanging from the curtain wall facing the sea. Whoever it was, climbed up the mountain from our private beach and fired an arrow at me, which I still have, and then stabbed our pillows with the knives, or had an accomplice who did it instead.” We walked to his apartments as we talked.

 

“Has anyone made contact with the leader of the pirate colony?” Glorfindel asked.

 

“We sent a letter by eagle demanding that Jack Lash appear before the court, or else we would point our canons at the colony and blockade the port. He has until tomorrow evening to appear and then we will sail. We also have spies in the forest ready to kill anyone who tries to escape by underground tunnel.”

 

“Are your guards practised in what to do to keep the castle secure?” Glorfindel seemed amazed.

 

“Yes, and Thranduil brought some of his guards as well.” I knew that Glorfindel had a poor opinion of my guards, even though he put them through an intensive training program which we had maintained. His opinion was not entirely undeserved.

 

“Silimaurë has kept up with the measures you put in place, and they do regular practice runs of various events that could happen. However, they did not notice someone climbing over the wall. It was raining and they were all huddled around the brazier in the work elves tent to keep warm.” I raised my eyebrows with amusement. “I had them flogged for failing in their duty, so now my guards are terribly eager to be seen to be doing their work properly.”

 

“Good.” Glorfindel smiled. “They deserved nothing less.”

 

“They will learn that being a warrior is a serious job and not the glamorous one they perceive it to be,” Mel said, and grinned when I laughed. “All right, I am married to Glorfindel. I get more glamour than they do.”

 

“Too right you do.” Glorfindel pulled giggly Mel towards him and kissed the top of his head.

 

We all gathered that afternoon while the elflings were in their schoolroom with Orophin and their bodyguards. Erestor had spent a happy morning extracting information from the landlords of the local taverns about who paid for the casks of rum and how they were delivered. He felt he had all the information he needed but advised me to keep them locked up until it was all over. He sat at the table with Thranduil, Merilnis, Legolas, Mel, Fin, Silimaurë, Angaráto, Lancaeron, Círdan and myself. Lancaeron is Círdan’s second when at sea, so his presence was necessary. This was a Council of War. Solid decisions and an effective plan of action needed to be formulated in readiness for defeating the threat to our realm.

 

We discussed the nature of the menace. None of us could understand why the pirates would threaten us, especially as we are much stronger than they are. We pondered the possibility of the threat being from somewhere else. We agreed that whilst it was possible, it was common sense to eliminate the possible danger from the pirates first.

 

Círdan’s sailors were ready to sail, according to Lancaeron, and he remarked that they took their duties more seriously than Silimaurë's warriors did.

 

“I think you will find the castle is a far larger area to defend than a little boat,” our Captain of the Guard shot back.

 

“If my sailors were patrolling, we would have seen and apprehended the one who broke into the castle. We are not affected by the rain, like your little baby guards are.” Lancaeron smirked at his brother-in-law, ignoring the taunt about his ship being a little boat, thus making Silimaurë appear foolish. Normally they were good friends, but when it came to work they fought like cat and dog. I wondered what the Lady Erviniae thought of the way her husband and brother comported themselves.

 

“Enough,” Círdan said. “Although I must say that I would feel happier if the warriors applied as much diligence to their duties as my sailors do.”

 

“My Lord,” Silimaurë protested. “We have stuck rigidly to Lord Glorfindel’s training plan and I feel the warriors are much better at their job than before.”

 

“That is as maybe,” I told him. “But the fact remains that someone climbed the outer walls and broke into the keep. We know the entry point because the rope used is frayed at points that match where the protruding rocks would have rubbed against when used for climbing. Therefore they must have walked past the warriors who, by their own admission, spent the whole night in the work elves tent.”

 

“My sailors would not have done that.” Lancaeron smirked at Silimaurë. “We keep watch in all manner of weather and never desert our post.”

 

“That is true,” Círdan agreed. He looked at Silimaurë. “Your warriors could learn a thing or two from my sailors.”

 

Poor Silimaurë. Still, it was his own fault that his warriors were not as highly trained as they should be. For too long he had relied on our realm being a peaceful one, and most of the time it is. However; the warriors needed to be ready and were not. They are all excellent fighters, but they do not work as a team and value personal comfort a little too much.

 

“Let us not trade insults. We need to decide what we are going to do about this.”

 

Happily, my words had an effect. We decided upon a course of action pretty quickly, which was lucky because I could see Glorfindel about to lose his temper with Círdan, Silimaurë and Lancaeron if they carried on with their pointless argument.

 

If Jack Lash came to the castle we would meet him in the Hall of Crystal thrones, which would be heavily guarded by the warriors. The sailors would guard our fleet of ships, because we all know that a pirate’s eye is always on what he can steal at sea. No doubt Jack Lash would bring reinforcements. In fact, we expected him to.

 

After ironing out the finer details, we went to dinner. The meeting had taken three hours and we were badly in need of some refreshment.

 

Because of the castle lockdown the food served in the dining hall was plain, but good nonetheless. My elflings were full of excitement and told me about the paintings they had done that afternoon. Cireolas told Mel that he had learned how oliphaunts drink water with their trunks.

 

“They suck water up trunk,” Cireolas informed his uncle and did the actions. “Then they squirt into mouth.”

 

“I expect you would like to be an oliphaunt when you grow up.” Mel tickled Cireolas, who screeched with laughter.

 

“I want to be like Unca Mel.”

 

"Of course you do,” Mel laughed. “All elflings want to be like me. Do you still wear your Hello Vampire clothes and eat all your food up?”

 

“Yes!” Cireolas screeched in Mel’s ear. “I have ‘Unca Mel’ boots too.”

 

“Well then, it seems you are indeed on your way to being like me,” Mel said. “To be really like me you have to marry a famous warrior.”

 

“I marry Errahere.” Cireolas grinned widely.

 

“I suppose Elrohir will do.” Mel winked at Elrohir, who was also laughing at Cireolas’ antics.

 

“I love Errahere. I love you too.”

 

“Well I love you too, little one.” Mel tickled Cireolas again.

 

We had a happy evening, ending it early in readiness for the next day. Tomorrow we would officially declare war on the pirates.

 

I climbed into bed and watched as Círdan took his clothing off. “Come here.” I licked my lips while throwing the covers back. “Get in bed and part your legs. No sleep for you yet, my sexy one.”

 

 

 

 


	48. Part 139 – The Unfortunate Demise of Blackheart Jack Lash. Part 140 – The Battle of the Maiar. Part 141 – The Aftermath.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ereolas and Círdan meets Blackheart Jack Lash. Mel fights the evil Maia who is threatening Ereolas’ kingdom. Ereolas and Mel consider why Sauron wanted to conquer Mithlond.

 

**Part 139 – The Unfortunate Demise of Blackheart Jack Lash.**

 

We sat in the Hall of Crystal Thrones and waited. A silent expectation hung in the air, magnifying every small sound. The castle was still locked to all outsiders and only the pirate leader and his small retinue would be allowed in. We waited. As the minutes ticked by I became angrier; how dare Jack Lash be nearly late.

 

A note was handed to Círdan. After reading it he passed it to me. Jack Lash was at the dockside. He would be escorted by Círdan’s sailors to the castle where he would be formally handed over to the palace guards. Círdan and I looked out of the window to the landing stage in the far right distance. Five pirate ships, all armed for battle, were positioned a couple of hundred yards out at sea. They were some way from our warships, which were also armed and ready for battle. Jack Lash and four of his crew had disembarked from his ship to the dock, via a small boat, and given full honours as he is not our prisoner yet.

 

We sat on our thrones and looked at our courtiers. Erestor, Legolas, Thranduil and Merilnis were at the front and heavily armed. All the ellith with children had been ordered to stay in their rooms. The remaining courtiers were in attendance and dressed in their finest robes, concealing a multitude of weapons; we were taking no chances. Our own elflings were in a secure, hidden room with their nannies, two guards, and Orophin, who was charged to personally oversee their safety. Mel and Glorfindel stood behind our thrones as our personal guards, wearing the full ceremonial dress of Mithlond, including various weapons which were highly polished and on display. It is always a provident measure to have a half-Maia and a warrior gifted by the Valar at one’s back. Círdan and I had our ceremonial swords around our waists. The hilts were jewel encrusted and etched with fine tracery and studwork, indicating a decorative purpose only, but the sword inside was as deadly as any utilitarian blade. Under our robes we were armed to the hilt.

 

We waited another ten minutes and then the doors to the throne room opened. Jack Lash walked through the white doors that are encrusted with golden fruit and flowers surrounding our linked coats of arms. We are nothing but tastefully flash when it comes to greeting important visitors. The pirates who accompanied were denied entrance and had to watch through the crossed spears of the warriors on guard.

 

Blackheart Jack Lash smiled widely and walked to the space in front our thrones. “Lord Círdan and King Oropher. I am most overwhelmed, delighted and honoured that you would request my humble presence to meet under the terms of parley.” He took off his outrageously plumed hat and waved it extravagantly in large loops as he bowed down nearly to the ground.

 

“Greetings, Blackheart Jack Lash,” Círdan said to the highly decorative pirate standing before us; he wore a dark red frock coat, tight black silk leggings and enough lace adornment to bedeck the décolleté of every Lady in the court.

 

“Greetings, Blackheart Jack Lash. I was not aware of the need for parley, or that we had offered it,” I replied.

 

“Forgive my assumptions, Most Gracious and Supreme Highness, King Oropher, the Magnificent and Illustrious. Shining Star of all Arda.” He looked at me as if expecting something to happen. No doubt he had no knowledge of the lifting of the curse where I was unable to call myself Oropher; however, he did now.

 

“I am indeed King Oropher, but you may call me Lord Ereolas.” Jack Lash delicately fingered the red and gold feathers on his large black hat; he hid his surprise well and smiled graciously at me.

 

 “You grant me the most admirable of honours, my Lord. In return, I would be most estimably flattered if you would call me Captain Blackheart Jack Lash.”

 

“Captain eh?” Círdan smiled, but the insult was clear. “When did that happen?”

 

“Indeed, I am a captain in my own right. Awarded by a certain Maiar, whose identity I have pledged my honour to keep secret.” He smiled so that we could see every single one of his white teeth, very unusual for a human pirate; their teeth are normally black and rotten. Then I saw something unexpected.

 

“You are an elf. You have elf ears. What deception is this?”

 

There was a sharp intake of breath from the courtiers. Everyone knew that Jack Lash was human, at least he was when we last saw him five years before.

 

“Yes, indeed. Your powers of observation are equalled by your shining magnificence, King Oropher,” Jack Lash replied expansively. “I took my predecessor’s name after deposing him in a disappointingly bloodless coup and carried on in his tradition. Better a pirate that everyone has heard of than starting anew in obscure anonymity. He is dead now, but he was human; therefore, it was to be expected that he would die sometime, so it hardly matters.”

 

“Quite so,” Círdan agreed. “Exactly who are you?”

 

“I am Captain Blackheart Jack Lash. I am at your service, Lord Círdan, Captain of all who sail the seas.” He bowed again, waving his silly hat in circles before putting it on again.

 

“He is lying,” Mel whispered in my ear, as if I did not know.

 

I started to draw my sword. “Under terms of parley you cannot attack me,” Jack Lash said quickly, his hand nowhere near the hilt of his own sword.

 

“We did not agree to parley in our letter to you, indeed it was never mentioned. You did not know the reason for the meeting except that we would declare war on you and your colony if you did not attend.” My hand stayed on the hilt.

 

“An invite from such an illustrious address and from ones so rarefied is indeed an honour, but you must be in concord with me when I propose that it was hardly an invite to a polite tea party.” Jack Lash's florid repartee grated on me. “I came under the terms of parley because you are, no doubt, still outraged that my one of my pirates fired an arrow at you and then stabbed a note to your pillows threatening to kill you.”

 

Círdan and I sat shocked and disbelieving.

 

“There was nothing personal in the attack,” Jack Lash continued. “We were paid handsomely for a job well done.”

 

“What had you planned as a follow up measure?” Círdan asked, barely holding his temper. How I adore him when he is on the brink of rage. It was a disappointing that others were in the room; I would have bent him over the chair and entered him there and then. Oh well! I would have to put up with a raging stiffy for a while.

 

“There was no follow up measure; my benefactor merely wished to know if Lord Ereolas could catch the arrow. There is a rumour that he is once again blessed of the Valar. My benefactor had to be sure.” Jack Lash smirked. “He did not deign to tell me why, and indeed it was none of my business. Nor would I dare ask him.” Jack Lash's face fell. “Of course, I am unable to reveal who engaged us, but I assure you we have no further intention in Mithlond.”

 

“Parley be damned,” I said angrily, drawing my sword. I was already halfway from my throne before Jack Lash could react. “Draw your sword and I will kill you.” I hoped he would be rash and draw his weapon. I dearly wanted to end his life at that very instant, if only for the distress the incident had caused my eldest ion.

 

Legolas stood up and divested the pirate of his sword and daggers, whilst Erestor frisked him with his hands and found a further four daggers concealed in clothing and a cheese wire secured in the lace ruffle on his left wrist. Jack Lash looked unsettled.

 

“Tell me who your benefactor is or else I will cut you to ribbons,” I took a dagger from a slit in my robe and nicked the skin of Jack Lash’s neck so a thin stream of blood ran down his neck.

 

There was no answer. A strikingly beautiful form, filled with the vileness of the blackest of hearts, materialised before us and touched Jack Lash on the shoulder. He swooned to the ground with a look of absolute terror.

 

Erestor looked down at Jack Lash. "He is dead." He looked at the Maia. "You will find it harder to kill us." How exceptionally brave my ada is. Terror struck his heart as it struck mine. Only a great elf would look such evil in the face and not flinch.

 

Our collective radiance increased to a blinding brilliance. Mel, Glorfindel, Legolas, Thranduil and I glowed so intensely that our courtiers had to shield their eyes. Swords would not work against this particular Maia and neither would Merilnis’ arrow aimed at his head. The mithril bow melted in her hands as she went to fire, causing her to scream in agony when she was unable to let go. The peril in front of us was too urgent for Thranduil or Legolas to aid her, so they stood firm.

 

Mel used the diversion to pull out a large leather bound book from behind my throne. The covers spat bolts of lightning and fire. The rippling pages shone so brightly they outshone our highest elven luminosity. My brother stood in all his terrifyingly beautiful Maia glory, his Maia blond hair twisting and writhing and his eyes shining with light enough to rival that of Anor’s beams. His fingers crackled with fire as he turned the pages of the Grimoire of the Maia, and as he did great forks of lightening emanated from the whole of his being and encased the whole room in streams of overwhelming brilliance.

 

Mel looked at the one who stood cruelly laughing before us and spoke, his voice causing the windows to shatter and the airs to rage about us. “I am Prince Melpomaen Erestorion and beloved of the Valar. Ancient prophecy is fulfilled and the Grimoire has chosen me to be its Master. Of all the Maia, I am the one.”

 

 

 

 

 

**Part 140 – The Battle of the Maiar.**

 

 

“I am the owner of the Grimoire, not you,” the Maia said barely controlling his anger. Círdan, Legolas, Thranduil, Glorfindel and I stood before him as a barrier, glowing in all our light, but we could not stop him from pushing through us and approaching my brother.

 

We turned and looked at Mel. Deep in my heart I knew he would not have made the pronouncement if he felt that he was limited by chance, but against such a foe surely it was madness to expect to win?

 

“I invite you to take it, Sauron,” Mel taunted with a light and deceptively easy laugh. “It will not be as easy as you think.”

 

“The Grimoire for the lives of your brother’s elflings,” Sauron said. Terror struck my heart. If I had been a lesser elf I would have urged my brother to concede. However, none of us moved.

 

“The elflings are invisible to you. They are under the protection of the Lady Elbereth. Even you cannot defeat a Vala.” Mel taunted. “Do you have any more impotent threats or will you try to take the Grimoire?”

 

“I wrote the Grimoire. I know all that is written inside,” Sauron lurched forward and tried to touch the outer edge of the book. As he did a lightning bolt threw him to the ground.

 

“You wrote it while Aulendil. You are not him anymore. The book does not recognise you.” Mel looked imperious while we continued to stand, swords ready but impotent all the same. “The Grimoire of the Maia has chosen me to be its new master. You still desire the Grimoire because it has power of its own. Would you like to know how I came by it?”

 

“Not really,” Sauron replied, trying to appear nonchalant. His dark sapphire eyes seethed with rage and his lips compressed to a thin white line. “Why would I want to listen to the empty boastings of a thief? The book will destroy you in the end. You do not have the strength to use its enchantments.”

 

“You forget, Sauron,” Mel trilled. “The Grimoire chose me. It did not choose you, it chose me.” My brother smirked at the outraged Maia and added that he knew from Lord Manwë himself that the book would not harm him.

 

I motioned for two of the elves to take the half-conscious Merilnis out of the room while Mel continued to taunt Sauron. I noticed that the pirates who accompanied Jack Lash were gone. They had probably fled as soon as Sauron appeared. Who could blame them if they had? I motioned for the courtiers to leave the room. I had seen in the past how much power Sauron had when fighting and I did not want all of them to die in one fell swoop.

 

“I see the room is empty and all your courtiers have deserted you,” Sauron taunted Círdan. “How brave your elves are.”

 

“And yet we consistently beat your orcs with ease,” I smirked. "I ordered them to leave. I happen to care about the safety of my subjects."

 

“I killed you once, Oropher,” Sauron said menacingly. “I can kill you again.” He raised his hand. Immediately it was surrounded with a string of lightning, which pulled him back to face Mel. Glorfindel completed the move by kicking Sauron’s arse with the full force of his boot.

 

“Eyes to the front, Sauron,” Mel ordered; he grinned at Glorfindel.

 

“Make me, half-Maia,” Sauron hissed angrily. “See if you can.” I don't know why Sauron said that, Mel had just done it.

 

As the pages of the Grimoire flipped over of their own accord, Sauron stood spellbound. Mel read the words in a speech I have never heard and Sauron yelled as tight bands of crackling light overwhelmed his being. He struggled and eventually broke free. “You cannot contain me, Melpomaen. Your powers are too weak to have any lasting effect. I will overcome you. I am invincible. I promise that today you will die along with your simpleton husband.”

 

“I think not,” Mel smirked. “Remember you gave me half of Saruman’s power? Lord Manwë judged that his power was to be added to my fëa, and so I am full Maia and also half elf.”

 

“Not if I take Saruman’s power back,” Sauron replied and smiled as he raised his hand.

 

“Sauron your mouth issues the words of a half-wit. What Lord Manwë gives cannot be taken away by you or anyone. The Grimoire was once yours and then it was assigned by Lord Manwë to Olorin, who rejected it and asked the book that I become its master instead.”

 

“Why would Olorin hand over so much power to you?” Sauron sneered. “You probably stole it from him. You are nothing but a base liar.”

 

“Olorin gave it to me because in the ancient scrolls it foretold both my births, and that the book would be mine in my second life. Apparently, I will use it in one of your defeats. You are a master of collecting defeats, are you not? In the end, the elves always win; they always whip your arse and yet you never seem to learn.” Mel smiled and leaned forward a bit, as if to impart a delicious piece of information. “Such power I now have, Sauron. The book gives me the power of two Maia; therefore I do not fear you at all.”

 

“You should fear me; I also have the power of two Maia.” Sauron smirked. I wondered if Mel had bitten off more than he could chew. It was well known that the Dark Lord was much more powerful than an ordinary Maia. “Now is the time of your death, young Melpomaen. Say your farewells.”

 

Sauron’s face started to change. His face elongated and large fangs grew from his mouth. Long, sharp talons issued from his elegant fingers and his body enlarged, the bulk splitting the seams of his clothing. Large bat like wings with whippy cord like feelers slashing madly through the air, completed the horror of Sauron’s new form. It was quite revolting to look upon. I remember Erestor remarking how a warg was several hundred times more beautiful.

 

“How predictable.” Mel sighed as if bored. “I suppose I will have to fight you.” He touched the Grimoire and a thick stream of the books power entered him. He grew in stature. His face became a snarl as his teeth became long spikes and his hair took on the appearance of strangling vines. I could not see his body anymore as it disintegrated into an essence of an ethereal nature that had no form, yet was complete in opacity. The fair being that he became was diametrically opposite to Sauron’s metamorphosis into ugliness.

 

Mel roared and launched himself at the monster. Sauron tried to meet Mel halfway but tripped over Legolas’ foot, which he deliberately stuck out. That did not deter the Dark Lord for long though. Good and evil locked in combat and fought their way across the room until they crashed into the balcony doors that gave way under their combined weight. Both of the titans, for that was surely what they became as they moved their fight to the sky, roared loudly and slashed at each other in a display that shook the very ground beneath us and made the mountain upon which we resided shudder with violent tremors. At one point, I saw Mel reach up to Anor, pull away some of her ether and smash it into Sauron’s face. I was so proud of him, and cheered when Sauron roared in agony.

 

They fought for hours and then I saw something remarkable. The Valar were watching from the sky while a ring of shining beings surrounded Sauron and Mel. My brother later told me that they were the fëar of the Maiar who lived in Valinor. It was not an even fight anymore. Mel was now bound to win but still the mighty battle continued.

 

My attention was caught by Ulmo picking up one of the pirate ships. He tore the top deck off and looked inside as the terrified, yelling pirates clung onto any part of the vessel they could. Then he cast it back down on to the surface of the sea, creating a mighty tidal wave. The ship was like a toy in his huge hands. I watched fascinated as he picked up another pirate ship and tore away the mast and sails. Next, he pulled up the deck. Great planks of wood fell into the water far below. I could just make out a nude man chained to a bed. He looked up, shielding his face with his hands as he cried out in fear. Ulmo touched the chains and they broke. He took the nude being from the ship and let the vessel crash back into the water. Dead pirates floated on the surface of the sea, their bodies bobbing with the waves. I doubt many mourned their loss.

 

Sauron’s attention was diverted as soon as he saw Ulmo take the being from the ship. He shouted, “NO!” It was a long drawn out cry and I knew that he had lost something precious to him.

 

That was the diversion Mel needed. He thrust his mighty fist under Sauron’s jaw and hit as hard as he could. Sauron’s head jerked back and he flew through the air. Way in the distance, near the horizon, the Dark Lord righted himself and charged toward Mel, only to be batted back to the horizon by Lord Manwë, who told him that Mel would be victorious whether he liked it or not. Sauron charged forward again and Lord Manwë hit him harder so that he disappeared over the horizon completely.

 

“Well done, Mel,” Lord Manwë boomed from the sky. I had to hold onto the metal bars of the balcony to avoid falling over as he spoke; the flower scented wind howled in our ears, threatening to knock us all to the ground. “Sauron is back near his stronghold and licking his wounds. His strength is diminished, for now.”

 

Mel stood to his full height and slowly changed back to his Maia form. He exhaled deeply and then breathed in again. “Thank you, Lord Manwë.” Mel called to the sky. “I could not have done it without you.”

 

“No Maia can defeat Sauron on his own,” Lord Manwë boomed. “His power was nearly complete. It will take many years for him to regain his strength. Lord Eru has commanded that the peoples of Middle-earth will enjoy a long period of peace, and so it is done. Do not be complacent. He will rise again and there will be many battles to defeat him. Guard yourselves and prepare, because the time is coming when the races will join together in the greatest war of all. Do not be left standing against one who would subdue every free being in Middle-earth. I am Manwë. I have spoken. So be it.”

 

We would endure more wars, Manwë had prophesied as such. Mel's victory was tinged with the knowledge of what was to come. All we could do was heed his words and get on with living our lives. There was nothing else we could do. Still, at least we were forewarned. That counts for a lot in my opinion.

 

Ulmo advanced forward towards the balcony, holding the unmoving person in his hand. As he became clearer, I saw the being was an elf with long dark hair. He was completely nude and appeared unconscious.

 

“Give him to me,” Erestor said urgently. “I know who he is.”

 

 

 

**Part 141 – The Aftermath.**

 

  

It is all very well us confronting Sauron, but the consequences of such action are never considered until afterwards. Half the town is flooded from the tidal wave Ulmo caused, and quite a few elves and a baby were killed, either by the water or the detritus and falling masonry hitting them. I have also been given several reports of a significant number of elves drowning when the tidal wave hit because they decided to watch the action from a vantage point on the beach. On a more minor note, all the seaward facing windows of the keep were smashed, the balconies and doors buckled, and the curtain wall needs rebuilding again. We do not mind the financial aspects. Círdan and I are incredibly wealthy and can afford it; however, I think the expense would have broken a lesser realm. We are more concerned with the loss of life, no one can repair the broken hearts caused by loved ones dying. I am not looking forward to parrying words with the Castle Finance Committee again, and it will not matter a jot to them that Melpomaen has singlehandedly ensured the safety of every elf alive in Mithlond. Oh well! I suppose I will have to threaten to kill them all again. At least the elves who run the Disaster Relief Fund will get to work straightaway and do what is necessary; they always do.

 

Mel was exhausted when he came back onto the balcony. He couldn’t stop laughing in spite of his tiredness and was experiencing the high that all warriors feel who are victorious. He was pragmatic about going into a battle that he could not win. He said that no one could beat Sauron, and at least he did have help. Although, he said later that had he known the odds when facing the Dark Lord before the battle he might have been less enthusiastic about engaging in combat so easily. When he did indeed realise that he was not an equal match to Sauron’s strength, he wondered if he was going to die. He dismissed the thought immediately, deciding that if it was time to acquaint himself with Námo again he would go fighting as hard as he could using all his strength and guile.

 

Glorfindel hugged Mel and kissed him. “I thought I might lose you.” He held his husband a fraction tighter.

 

“I will always be with you,” Mel said with the bravado of one who is the victor He held onto Glorfindel with an arm around his neck and another around his waist. “You know that.”

 

Legolas joyfully hugged Mel, and so did Erestor who had just come back from the healing rooms after leaving the unconscious elf there. He told Mel how worried he had been and asked if he was hurt. Mel replied that he was unscathed, and it seemed to set Erestor’s mind at rest. My parents then went to the healing rooms to see if Merilnis was all right. Thranduil had already left. I hugged my brother and thanked him for helping defend our realm, telling him how my heart was bursting because I was so proud of him. Círdan hugged Mel too, which is rare for him; he is a bit backwards really when it comes to personal contact with others, apart from our elflings and me.

 

It was time to ask the question which had played on my mind since Sauron appeared. “Mel? Why do you think that Sauron engaged the pirates to find out whether I had been reborn or not?”

 

“I have one or two theories,” Mel replied. “I am not entirely sure, but I think that Sauron wanted to know your strength because he had his eyes on securing Mithlond to prevent any more elves from sailing. I would propose that his plan was to make you his thralls. He might have been successful if you were not Oropher. Ereolas could not have withstood him. Those who are beloved of the Valar are far harder to defeat.”

 

I frowned at the deviousness of Sauron’s plan. If he had taken control of the realm then no elves could have sailed. More would poured into the realm seeking to journey to Valinor and would have also been overcome. He could have carried on the deception for a short while and none would have been any the wiser. Even Elrond and Galadriel would not have been able to tell the nature of what they felt was wrong, except that it was evil. Even Galadriel's mirror could not have fully revealed the truth. The deception could not have carried on forever, but with a new stronghold in place no elf could have risen up against the Dark Lord in his new home. It would have been useless to appeal to the Valar. I feel as though their policy of non-intervention is often at the expense of the race they profess to place first in their hearts. I am under no illusions as to why they intervened today; it was because of their protection of Mel and not so they could save Mithlond. I have certain advantages bestowed by the Valar, so I am the lucky one. No ordinary elf enjoys their attention; as to their welfare the Valar are blind. I may seem ungrateful to the Valar, but Mel is in agreement with me on this one. He told me they protect their own, and the firstborn still suffer because of their rejection of Aman.

 

“Perhaps there is a silver lining,” I said to Mel as went to check on Merilnis. “The elves here thought they would never see a threat from Sauron and he has proved them wrong. I expect the warriors will be training doubly hard now they know the danger is real.”

 

“They will think it has passed and will go back to their old ways,” Mel said quite seriously. “Everyone heard Lord Manwë say the peace would be long lasting.”

 

“I shall threaten the most serious of penalties if they do.”

 

“What will you do?” We made our way across the grass towards the healing block.

 

“I will threaten them with execution.” I opened the door to the healing block. “Their laxity must never be allowed to threaten the lives of those they are supposed to protect.”

 

“They are excellent fighters. It is team work they lack. They need to change their mindset and that is not so easy to achieve. However, Glorfindel and I would be willing to increase their training further.”

 

I agreed, knowing that Círdan would as well. He had gone to the secret room to assure the elflings that they were safe and that Blackheart Jack Lash had gone. How he had gone would not be imparted to them; Cireolas was particularly sensitive and we doubted his ability to take onboard the information without becoming upset.

 

The unconscious elf was in a side room asleep. The healers pronounced him as suffering from the effects of severe terror and had left him to sleep. Physically there was nothing wrong with him but his mind had shut down, presumably until it thought the danger had passed. I knew not who he was, and neither was I too curious as I looked upon the long lines of elves who had come in with broken limbs and other injuries because they had been blown over in the wind or bits of the castle structure had fallen upon them.

 

Merilnis was in the room where the treatment is carried out; the one where until recently I was too terrified to enter. Thranduil sat outside in the anteroom sitting on a bench, hunched over, looking at the floor. I sat beside him and put my arm around his shoulder.

 

"Ada, what if she dies?"

 

 

 

 

 


	49. Part 142 – The Nature of Repressed Grief. Part 143 – Refugees. Part 144 – Maglor – Why Did We Think He Would Be Grateful?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ereolas examines why his line is so repressed in showing their grief. Erestor tells Ereolas who the unconscious elf is. Maglor proves very difficult.

  **  
**

**Part 142 – The Nature of Repressed Grief**

 

 

 

I held Thranduil, my ion, in my arms and told him it was all right to cry when he tried to wipe his eyes. Never in either of my lives have I seen him looking so vulnerable and without hope.

 

“I am so glad I brought Saelir along.” Thranduil looked towards the treatment room door. “He will know what to do. He is in there with the twins.”

 

“Yes, he will know what to do.” A small splash of wetness hit the floor. I pulled my ion closer and he clung to me. “She will be all right,” I said softly. I reasoned to myself that her arms would be extremely injured, and maybe she would lose her hands, but she would survive.

 

To my knowledge, the last time Thranduil cried was when Legolas was born, the time before that was when I died. His body shook in my arms as the tears flowed. “I am sorry.” He wiped away the wetness with the back of his hand. The old ways die hard in our line. I was never allowed to cry as it showed weakness, which was necessary in a realm as martial as the Greenwood. The threat from outside was ever present, and because of that I raised my ion to be the same. You go with what you know, whether good or bad, because you know no better, and you do not question what seems right at the time. Erestor and Legolas raised me in a different way in my second life, and whilst I am still repressed from showing such emotion I have made sure that my elflings are not. In fact, both twins are masters of manipulative crying whereas Cireolas only does so if he is hurt or upset. In Ereodan’s former life he was brought up not to cry as well, so I am surprised that he has embraced doing so at every opportunity in this one.

 

"I'm sorry. I am not normally this weak."

 

“Your wife is hurt. I would expect nothing less from you.”

 

Thranduil wiped his eyes again. “Legolas is outside; I do not want him to see me like this,” He sat upright and slapped his thighs with his hands, drawing in a deep lungful of air. “I have to compose myself.”

 

I walked over to the door and pushed the bolt across. No one could enter. Thranduil would have the privacy he needed. Then I sat down behind him. “No one can enter the room now.” I pulled him back into my embrace and held him as the tears flowed down his cheeks. His body occasionally shook as he caught his breath. It was so hard for him to let go.

 

We sat in silence until he calmed. I rubbed his shoulders and spoke soothingly to him, as an ada should when his ion is distraught. In the end, he accepted that Merilnis would survive but did not know how she would cope with her injuries. The mithril bow burnt her hands and the molten metal ran up her arms as she tried to let go. She screamed once in her pain and terror; it was a long drawn out howl of surprised agony, and then she held herself as an elleth of the Greenwood was trained to do. How tragic that we raised our elflings to do that because we feared so much for our lives. I did not hold much hope for her emerging unscathed but it was a possibility that Thranduil entertained, even though he knew it was pointless.

 

“I feel so guilty. I should have helped her.”

 

“Sauron counted on you doing so, yet you did not. We would not have been as strong without you.” How can one console an elf who grieves for what could have been and for what is to come? “Never feel bad for doing what was right. Merilnis would have expected nothing less from you.”

 

“I should have comforted her.”

 

“Even if you had tried the pain would have been too much.”

 

“I cannot bear to lose her.” Thranduil buried his head in his knees and shook as he tried not to cry.

 

“She cannot bear to lose you either, and that is why she will survive.” I held onto him as he breathed deeply, trying to control his grief.

 

Merilnis was in the treatment room for several hours. During that time I stayed with Thranduil as he waited. When she was wheeled into the room, Saelir explained that he had done as much as he could. He feared she would lose both hands and might not be able to use her arms because of the muscle being burnt away by the molten metal.

 

“We really need Elrond here.” Saelir looked at Merilnis and sighed. “Her best chance lies with him.”

 

“I will send a message via eagle. Mel and ‘Fin know how to call them. Elrond can be here within a couple of days.”

 

Merilnis looked so peaceful. She slept the sleep of the innocent. I bit my lip as I watched Thranduil bend over to kiss her lips. He told her that he loved her and she would be all right because there was new hope. She did not stir. I had to hold myself and be strong for Thranduil; Merilnis was my adopted iell from when I was King of the Greenwood, so I was very near to tears as well.

 

“I will let Legolas in now. He will want to see his nana.”

 

I unlocked the door. Legolas barged into the room, nearly sending me flying, and told me that I should not have presumed to deny him entrance. "He is my ada, which makes me closer to him than you. You are merely his grandion."

 

“If you ever say anything as thoughtless again I will not consider your feelings and will call myself by my true name,” I spat back.

 

Legolas ignored me and pushed past. “Ada, I apologise for not being able to be with you when you needed consoling but Ereolas locked the door.” Such a whining tell tale.

 

“Yes, I know,” Thranduil replied. “I wanted to be with my ada; he understands how I feel.” It was a verbal slap in the face for Legolas, but one he deserved.

 

“It seems that I only have one ion now,” Legolas said in a faltering voice, taking hold of his ada’s hand.

 

“Nonsense,” Thranduil replied. “If Ereolas did not consider himself to be your ion, or love you as his ada, he would have changed his name in an instant. He loved being Oropher. Ereolas must love you more than you could ever comprehend not to change his name back. I want no more of this silliness. Your nana is hurt and you are thinking only of yourself.”

 

Legolas bit his lip and said nothing. I went to console him but Erestor pulled me back. “Give your ada some time alone with Thranduil. He will talk some sense into him.”

 

We walked out of the room and shut the door. I asked Mel and Glorfindel to call the eagles and request that they collect Elrond with the utmost urgency. They went outside and I heard them calling. It was a type of bird like screeching. As I listened to them I wondered why the Valar did not come to help; Mel’s words rang in my mind that they looked after their own. The Valar did not care about the minutiae of elven lives. They were more interested in events on a grand scale, and to that end most of the elven race was expendable.

 

I took Erestor to the room where the rescued elf lay. He was stirring slightly and seemed agitated. Ada held his hand and spoke soothing words to him; the elf stilled and slept once more.

 

“Ada, who is he?”

 

 

 

 

**Part 143 – Refugees.**

  


 

“He is Maglor. He is my ada.”

 

In my mind I had wondered at the possibility but thought it too fantastic a concept to be true. “He looks like you, but not enough for me to have instantly made the connection.”

 

“I also look like my nana,” Erestor smiled. “I wonder if Maglor ever found out that she had sailed.”

 

“He will find out quickly enough, if Sauron hasn’t already taunted him with the fact. Do you remember Cireolas’ Maglor doll? When we heard Maglor’s voice begging us to rescue him? I wondered then if he and the prisoner on the ship was the same, even though doll looks hardly anything like him.”

 

“There was no way we could walk into Sauron’s stronghold and take him,” Erestor sighed. “I hope that when he wakes he understands why.”

 

“How could he think anything different?”

 

We watched as Maglor turned onto his side. “We are disturbing him,” Erestor stroked Maglor's hair and smiled. “We should leave him to sleep.”

 

We left the room. Legolas sat on a side bench in the corridor as Merilnis was being moved to a side room. “Ada,” I said as I sat beside him. “Mel and Glorfindel are calling the eagles so they can collect Elrond.”

 

“I do not see how anyone can cure her injuries,” he said sadly. “I fear she may sail.”

 

“Meleth, let us wait to see what happens.” Erestor put his arm around Legolas and pulled him close.

 

“It is easy for you,” Legolas replied. “She is not your nana.”

 

“My ada lies in the other room,” Erestor said patiently. “His body is unscathed but his mind will not be. I have to wait as well as you do.”

 

It was the strangest feeling seeing Maglor so close up. Here was an elf who had seen the sweeping and ever changing panorama of the previous ages, throughout many millennia, and here he was in the flesh. I wondered what must go through his mind when he slept. Perhaps he dreamt of when he was young and innocent before he killed in the name of the oath. Maybe he dreamt of Elrond and Elros in what I understand was a interlude of peace for him and Maedhros. Or perhaps he dreamt of the elfling that was once his, and the wife he left behind when he was taken prisoner by Sauron.

 

“I think I will go and help with the wounded,” I said softly, trying not to disturb my parents who held onto one another. The lines of elves needing treatment seemed endless and I considered myself very lucky that my elflings were never in danger.

 

“We need more healers,” Elrohir said to me. “We cannot treat the injured fast enough and some of them are in a very bad way.”

 

“I will ride into town and assess the situation. It may be that every available healer is treating elves there. If they are not they can come here and help.”

 

Círdan and I rode to the town with a company of warriors. We were not prepared for the devastation we saw there. The houses on the seaward side of the city were completely destroyed or in need of a great deal of repair. I sent two warriors over the river to assess the other side of the city but it appeared from first glance as though the higher defence walls had stood up to the tidal wave well; I could not determine any damage with my spyglass. According to four of the warriors, who went on their own initiative about an hour after the wave hit, the elves on this side of the river had moved to the higher landside of the town and owned only what they could carry. They had spent the afternoon helping everyone move to a large green in the centre of the city. I was heartened that the warriors had not needed prompting. Círdan remarked that Glorfindel and Mel would indeed be impressed with their actions. Our horses waded through the flood water. At an intersection, nearer to the town, we saw a gang of elves looting a house and taking items of furniture out. We could hear them running upstairs and down with items that the owners had obviously placed high up to stop them becoming subject to water damage.

 

I motioned to the guards. “They are looters. Kill them.”

 

The guards aimed their bows and a hail of arrows hit the thieves. Círdan told the guards to dismount and put the looted furniture back in the house and secure the door; hopefully the floating bodies in the water might act as a deterrent to others who might be inclined to steal from the victims of the flood.

 

We assigned two guards to patrol the area and to kill looters if they came across any. Then we moved on. We left two guards at every intersection until we reached the middle of the city. The ground became dry as we moved uphill. On a large green, many of the displaced elves sat looking forlorn and wet. They seemed hungry and thirsty, and I noticed several elflings crying and asking for food. In one corner, a few healers had set up a station. Rows of elves lay on the ground. I could tell that they were injured, but some looked unnaturally still.

 

“We cannot ask the healers to help in the castle,” I said to Círdan. “They have enough to do here.”

 

A chill wind blew as the evening drew in, and as it clouded over small drops of rain fell. “We have to help them,” Círdan replied.

 

“I have an idea. You might protest but it is the right thing to do.”

 

Círdan grinned. “I know exactly what Oropher would do, so go for it.”

 

We rode onto the field and the elves nearest to us glared our way. I could tell immediately that we were not going to be the most popular elves they had seen that day, indeed there was an undercurrent of hostility.

 

“Citizens of Mithlond,” I said in my clearest broadcasting voice. “You are all welcome to take shelter at the castle until your homes are repaired by the Disaster Relief Fund. We are only able to take elves who are affected directly by the flooding, plus we will take anyone who is injured, providing the healers can accompany them. Due to the number of injured elves in the castle we are unable to offer healing resources and so it is necessary that any healers, who are able, should also come to the castle. Are there any questions?”

 

“What about our belongings?” several of the elves called out at once.

 

“We have posted guards at various points throughout the town. They are under orders to kill looters on sight. Several looters have been killed and the belongings put back in the house they came from, so hopefully your belongings will remain in place.”

 

I assured them that they would receive food and a roof over their heads, which was better than staying in a field in the rain. I ordered four guards to requisition any blankets and spare clothing from the shops and send the bill to the Disaster Relief Fund. I was so glad the Fund had a different philosophy to the Castle Finance Committee; they would pay the bill immediately and fully understood the impact of adversity upon individual lives.

 

“I invite all who need our help,” I said to the crowd who had shifted their attitude to a relieved hopefulness from an envious hostility, because kings never suffer do they? “My guards will take you all to the various halls and from there you will all be taken care of.”

 

“We are eating from stores,” Círdan reminded me. “Will we feed them?”

 

“We have two years supply of pulses and grains and about the equivalent in dried meat. We can build up more stores after our subjects have gone. They have to come first.”

 

Círdan motioned to one of the guards, “Ride on ahead and tell the castle staff to prepare for around two-hundred families.”

 

It took a good two hours for everyone to arrive safely at the castle. We asked volunteers to share their rooms, which meant that we had to find accommodation for one-hundred families. We housed about twenty families in our formal living room, which was sealed off from our family living apartments by two guards. Another twenty families were housed in the dining hall and the rest in the library, several empty storerooms, and the formal guest apartments. It was a tight fit for everyone and would have been much easier if we had been able to use the large seaward facing rooms. We could have fitted everyone with comfort in the tea rooms, ballrooms, theatre and both throne rooms, but it was not to be, they were wrecked and in need of protection against the elements.

 

Broth and lembas was served to all the newcomers. The serving elves explained that all elves ate the same food as the castle had been in lockdown for the past couple of weeks and we were living off the stores. It helped that the elves were able to witness Círdan, Cireolas and I eating broth and lembas too. Ereodan and Jeli ate their ground rice pudding as usual.

 

It was a tiring day, but before I could go to bed Silimaurë and I had to arrange rotas for the guards in the town and receive reports about the state of the city over the other side of the river. Blankets and clothing were distributed among the elves and we supplemented with what we had stored, which was quite a bit as we are prepared for most eventualities. In all it was not perfect, but it was better than the elves sitting outside at the mercy of the elements, and with empty bellies.

 

It was nearly midnight before I trudged off to the healing halls. All was silent. Erestor and Legolas sat with Thranduil, he would not leave Merilnis’ side. She still slept and I was glad of that.

 

“How is she?” I asked softly lest I should disturb her.

 

“Still no change. We are waiting for the eagles to come back with Elrond.” His arms were on the bedrail and he rested his head upon them.

 

“Where are Mel and 'Fin?”

 

“They went back to their room. Both of them helped with the minor injuries. Melpomaen is extremely tired so he needed to sleep,” Legolas said with a thin smile. “Elladan is asleep on the bed in the treatment room and Elrohir is asleep on the table in the herb preparation room; they each gave their room to a refugee family.”

 

“We have given our formal living room. We cannot give anymore because of the smashed windows. We are all sleeping in the Ereodan and Jeli’s rooms because they the only ones undamaged.”

 

“How are the families whose rooms are damaged going to cope?” Erestor asked. “Have you made provisions for them?”

 

“Their rooms have been cleaned of glass and the windows and doors boarded up. They were given priority as we had nowhere else to put them.” I looked at Merilnis again and prayed to our Lady that she would keep my adopted iell within her gaze. “Well, I am going off to bed now.” I kissed my parents goodnight and wished them a good night. “Goodnight Thranduil.” There was no reply.

 

“He has fallen asleep,” Legolas whispered.

 

I smiled and walked away. No sooner had I got to the door when I heard a loud crash. “Where in Mordor am I?” a voice yelled angrily.

 

 

 

 

**Part 144 – Maglor – Why Did We Think He Would Be Grateful?**

   
 

I ran to Maglor’s room, and so did Erestor and Legolas. He was out of bed and had a chair in his hands. He threw it at Erestor, who knocked it out of the way with his arm. Then he went to pick up the bedside table, so I jumped on him. We ended up on the floor wrestling each other, with Legolas and Erestor piled on top. It was not long before we had Maglor pinned down, although I must say he was surprisingly strong for someone who had been a prisoner for so long.

 

“Ada, you are safe. I am Erestor.”

 

“You are a vision. You are a tool of Sauron. That is what you are.” Maglor continued to struggle and announced that he would have to kill us all, because his eyes had been enchanted and we were obviously orcs trying to rape him.

 

“Do you remember how you pleaded with Erestor to rescue you from Sauron’s stronghold?” Legolas asked as he fought to keep Maglor’s arm down. “You spoke through a doll. Does that mean anything to you?”

 

“T’was but a dream. Now I know you are evil; you are able to look into my mind.”

 

I was tired and wanted to go to bed and Maglor was being an idiot. I called out for a healer to bring something to calm the mad Fëanorian so that I could go back to my rooms. Of course, Maglor refused to take any of the medicine and accused us of trying to poison him. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Círdan entering the room. No doubt, he had come to look for me.

 

“Hold his legs, Meleth,” I called to him.

 

“Círdan,” Maglor spat with disgust. “You have joined forces with Sauron and sold the whole of the elven races to Melkor. I bet you did not even put up a fight.”

 

“What are you talking about?” I asked. “You know Maglor; one might be excused for thinking you are somewhat a congenital idiot.”

 

“And who are you?” Maglor spat contemptuously. “You look like an elleth. What are all those beads and flower clasps in your hair? You look like a fop.”

 

“And you look like an unkempt washerwoman,” Legolas said quickly. “You smell like one too.”

 

“I think he should be made to have a bath,” Círdan said, grinning at him. “Let’s wash away this filth and see if there is an elf underneath.”

 

“What new game is this?” Maglor shouted at us as we tried to stand him up. “How dare you presume to even touch an ion of Fëanor.”

 

“Maglor do you even know who I am?” Erestor asked wearily. “You have been Sauron’s slave for so long that perhaps you have forgotten your wife and your son, Erestor?”

 

Maglor exploded with rage. He yelled that the memories of his wife and ion were all he had left, and he would fight anyone who sought to take them from him; not even Sauron had been able to. It really was quite sad.

 

The noise had woken Elladan, he offered to get Mel. I agreed and returned to attempting to subdue the still struggling Maglor, who was still putting up a spirited fight. He was tough but no match for four elves. He continued to throw insults at us all and would not believe that Erestor was his ion. He also told us that we had to be in collusion with Sauron as there was no way that we could have beaten him. The memory of Ulmo ripping the top deck of the ship and exposing him on the bed seemed to have been repressed. In fact, he had no idea how he came to be in the healing rooms. We tried telling him about the ship, but he scoffed at us, asking if he looked like an elfling to believe such a fairytale. It was like beating our heads against a rock, and I felt so tired.

 

Maglor must have woken Thranduil up with his loud shouting. My ion came in and told Maglor to be quiet or else he would gag him and tie him to the bed. “See,” Maglor accused. “Just what Sauron would do. In fact, I believe you are Sauron,” he said to my ion looking victorious.

 

“Erestor, your ada is a fuckwit,” Thranduil walked out of the room.

 

“I told you I was Erestor,” Ada said to mad Maglor.

 

“It is all a grand deception. You have all rehearsed this deception.”

 

“No, that is what your mad ada, Fëanor, and your idiot brothers would have done,” Legolas said wearily.

 

“What is that noise,” Maglor said cocking his head. “Ha! You are definitely in collusion with Sauron. I can hear a Nazgul’s wings. I knew it. No good will come of it. You are all doomed.”

 

“It is a giant eagle, Maglor,” Círdan replied as if speaking to an elfling. “Still, I have an idea...”

 

Círdan told me to greet whoever had just arrived. I was glad to get away from Maglor, who smelt like a year's worth of rotted body parts. I went outside and saw Mel, Glorfindel and Elrond. In the background I could hear Maglor cursing.

 

“I am cold and wet,” Elrond said as he hugged me. “I need to get warm.”

 

The healer poured him a glass of herbal tea as Elrond sat beside the fire. Elladan told his ada that he kept a change of clothing in the changing room and he would be more than happy for him to wear it. Poor Elrond was drenched. The storm howled outside and the rain had penetrated his clothing even though he had worn adequate protection and sought refuge in the eagles down. “I hear that Maglor is returned to us, although I believe I am here for Merilnis. I am told that she is very badly hurt.”

 

“She is terribly hurt. You are our only hope. Maglor can wait. He is not as urgent as Merilnis. In fact, he is not urgent at all.”

 

"I need to change and then I will go and see him. I will see Merilnis when the feeling has returned to my fingers.” He left a trail of drips as he walked to the changing room.

 

Through the window, I could see Glorfindel showing the eagle to the large barn we keep for them when inclement weather stops them flying. Mel was with him; over his shoulder was slung a dead sheep, no doubt a snack for the huge bird. I noticed that neither was wet and the rain bounced away from them as it fell, as though they were protected by an invisible shield. They would be back soon.

 

Elrond came out of the changing room in Elladan’s clothing. It looked a bit snug but I said nothing. “Right, where is he?”

 

We walked into Maglor’s bedroom, and Elrond greeted him in Quenya. “Yes, talk in our mother tongue,” Maglor said hurriedly. “These servants of Sauron will not understand such refined speech. Are you here to give me good news? Has a way of escape been found? Be careful the elves in this room are a shifty lot. Do not let them even suspect you. I think they might be orcs in disguise, either that or traitors who deserve a painful and slow death.”

 

Mel walked into the room in his Maia form; his long blond hair moving of its own accord and his crystal eyes blazing many different colours. “Ah! It is the Maia who fought with Sauron, no doubt he is a prisoner, but he is powerful and he will know a way of escaping.”

 

My grand-ada Maglor was as nutty as a fruit bat. Erestor looked uncomfortable, but it was all I could do not to laugh.

 

 


	50. Part 145 – The Art of Persuasion. Part 146 – Sharp Eared Elflings. Part 147 – Sex Onboard Círdan’s Ship – Must Do It Again!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maglor realises that the elves are telling the truth. Círdan and Ereolas have to share a single bed. Ereolas and Círdan sleep onboard his ship. The elflings meet Maglor.

 

 

 

**Part 145 – The Art of Persuasion**

 

 

“Maglor,” Mel said. “Why are you biting the hand of those who are looking after you?”

 

“You are a Maia,” Maglor said as if outraged. “Surely you know they are the thralls of Sauron?”

 

“I know that with the Valar’s help I defeated Sauron and he is back in Barad-hûr licking his wounds. Do not insult me by suggesting that I am a prisoner of the evil one.” Mel gave Maglor a very stern look and continued. “Greet your ion, Erestor, and his husband, Legolas.”

 

“I did not mean to offend,” Maglor said to Mel, giving him more respect in that one sentence that any of us have ever done, which is hardly surprising because we know what Mel really looks like, even though he is pretty awesome in his Maia state. “I have seen you before in my dreams and hoped you would save me. I even know your name. Saruman often begged Sauron to be allowed to end your life, but he would not allow it because you were a source of torment for the wizard. He said that one day he would kill you, but that pleasure would not be Saruman’s, nor would he be permitted to witness it.”

 

“The Valar are with me, Maglor. In that respect I am more powerful than Sauron, but the day they look away I will not be. Today, however, I was able to beat him with their help and Ulmo rescued you. Do not be ungrateful. You are surrounded by your family.”

 

“Ulmo rescued me?” Maglor looked astonished.

 

“You were chained to the bed and fainted with terror.” Mel smirked. I think we all did. “I expect you to accept the help of those who have cared for you during your period of unconsciousness and to stop insulting them. I have spoken and it shall be.”

 

I love it when Mel says thinks like that. Hardly anyone argues with him. I once dared him to say it to Gandalf, when he was around ten years old. He threatened to give us both a clip round the ear.

 

“I did not realise,” Maglor said softly, the anger dying down. “Sauron has taunted me with many things and I thought this was another one of his tricks. Tell me, is my wife still alive?”

 

Mel nodded. “She was fading because she believed you were dead and so she sailed. Erestor was a small elfling. Ereinion forbade her to take him. He felt that Erestor still had a part to play in Middle-earth. Because of his decision you have family here. Now say hello to them.”

 

“I really did not believe that you were my ion,” Maglor said to Erestor. “I was told that you were killed in the orc attack, and I believed that for many years.”

 

“Another one of Sauron’s lies it seems,” Erestor said.

 

Mel told Maglor that he was going to change back into his elven form and did so. Maglor stared during the transformation and announced that he looked like the elfling in a painting that Saruman had in his room; he liked to throw small rocks at it. “I am that elfling and I look like my ada, Erestor,” Mel told him. “Ereolas looks like my other ada, Legolas.”

 

Elrond, never one to miss out, smiled at Maglor. “It is good to see you again,” he said and hugged him. Rather him than me; Maglor was in sore need of a highly scented bath. “Seeing you again reminds me of those happy days when I was your ion.”

 

“I know you, don’t I?” Maglor looked a tad confused, but I don’t suppose it takes much to do that to someone who swears an idiotic oath without considering the Valar warned consequences.

 

“Remember Elrond and Elros? I am Elrond.”

 

“Sauron told me that Elros chose to be a man.”

 

“Unfortunately it is true,” Elrond replied. “It is most unlike Sauron to tell the truth.”

 

“He did whenever he thought it could hurt. I feel as though I have missed out on so much.” Maglor then asked who I was.

 

I am Ereolas,” I told him. “I am the reborn King Oropher of the Greenwood. Círdan is my husband.”

 

“Good to meet you ex-king Oropher. The Greenwood doesn’t exist anymore. It belongs to Sauron and you are ex-king of nothing, except girly hair decorations it seems,” Maglor looked at me with disdain. I considered that perhaps we should gift wrap him and send him straight back to his former master; it was obvious that he did not like me and I had no idea why. “I presume that every single one of my brothers and ada are still dead?” We nodded. “According to Sauron, Ereinion is also dead?” We nodded again. “Well that makes me the High King of the Noldor.”

 

“No,” Erestor said firmly. “There is no High King anymore. Ereinion died and left the title to me. It was the Second Age and the kingdom was near on abandoned, so I gave it up. Elrond has advised me to retain the title to discourage others from assuming it and only to call on it again when there is an elven people who need leading in a time of great peril. I doubt that will happen for a long time.”

 

“It is my right,” Maglor said, he looked somewhat shocked. “Ereinion named me as his first heir.” I was shocked too; nowhere in any of the chronicles was that fact recorded.

 

“Are you challenging me? You will find me a formidable foe,” Erestor had a dangerous edge in his voice. I felt that here, encapsulated in these two ancient warriors, I was truly viewing the mindset of the old Noldor. “You were declared dead and the other two before me died in a duel. Therefore, I am the legal heir.” There is no arguing with Erestor when he is like that, and I wondered if Maglor appreciated how thrashed his arse would be if he dared come up against my ada.

 

“You are not High King,” Mel said to Maglor. “Erestor is, even if he chooses not to use the title. If ever Erestor dies the title passes to me and, believe me, I would use it. Anyway, the Valar will not allow you to lead the Noldor due to your ada’s atrocious career decisions and you and your brothers blindly following him.”

 

“Does this mean you can look like a beautiful Maia all the time and not just when things are happening?” Glorfindel said hopefully as he squatted by Mel’s side.

 

“Shut up, idiot,” Mel replied, playfully pushing Glorfindel over. Then he jumped on him and tickled his sides.

 

“I sometimes feel that we are judged too harshly for my ada’s actions. We were my ada’s obedient children, nothing more,” Maglor said with disdain as he looked at Mel and Glorfindel play fighting. “So you are Legolas?”

 

“Yes, I am,” Legolas smiled. “I am pleased to meet you.”

 

Maglor ignored Legolas’ reply and looked at Erestor. “Why did you not marry a Noldor?”

 

“Legolas is the one I love.”

 

“Everything seems different now, and probably not for the best.” Maglor shook his head, looking appalled.

 

“Well happily those days do not exist anymore, and stop being so bloody offensive to my ion and my ada,” Thranduil boomed. “I was right, you are a fuckwit.”

 

“Who is he?” Maglor asked Erestor. “I like to know who elves are before I run them through with my sword.”

 

“He is the King of Mirkwood and my ion,” I told him, enjoying his look of confusion. Who could blame him? “Furthermore you do not have a sword. Why make threats that you cannot follow through? It is madness or complete stupidity.” I made it quite clear to the obnoxious and insulting shit that I thought it was the latter.

 

“I vaguely remember you when you were Oropher. Everyone said you were mad. Mad as a March Hare, they said.”

 

“Absolutely!” I grinned, giving him one more chance. “My parents King Rárávëa and Queen Órëlaurëa were mad too. I am going to insist that my elflings are mad as well just to annoy you.”

 

“Now you are being facetious,” Maglor grinned, in spite of himself. “You have elflings, how is this possible?” He looked at Erestor and Legolas because it dawned on him that they had elflings too.

 

“Saruman cursed Legolas to become pregnant by the first elf he looked at after the enchantment. That elf was Erestor. I inherited the curse and have babies also. That means you have grand elflings.” I smiled at Maglor, even though I did not want to, and wondered if Jeli would recognise her ion from her previous life. If she did, I hoped she would tear him off a strip for his prejudice, as she did not carry his beliefs at all.

 

“I know the story because Sauron and Saruman discussed it several times. I wondered how it was mechanically possible. I must admit, I am somewhat overwhelmed with all this information.” Maglor sighed. “I suspect that everything has changed beyond my comprehension and ways of speaking that were acceptable then are treated with disdain now. I wonder how I will adapt to this new life, or should I seek the forgiveness of the Valar and sail?”

 

“Why don’t you try and adapt?” Elrond asked Maglor. “I would be happy to welcome you into Imladris; you were a good ada to me. The only one I remember in fact.”

 

“You are welcome to stay here as well,” Círdan said. “It is up to you, but you may want to meet the elflings first. You are related to them after all.” I actually did not want Maglor to stay and told Círdan through our connection, but he told me that I had to make allowances for the traumatised.

 

“So let me fully understand,” Maglor said. “You are Erestor, my ion, who is married to Legolas, whose ada is, Thranduil, who was sitting in the next room. You have two ionen, one who is a Maia when he wants to be, and one who was an ex-king, and is, by his own admission, as mad as a March hare.” He looked at me. “The Maia has no children and you have three?”

 

“That is about it,” Elrond said. “I also have two ionen and I am married to Galadriel’s daughter, Celebrían.”

 

“Rather you than me having her as a nana-in-law.” Maglor's eyebrows rose.

 

“She and Celeborn are now divorced and they are going to marry their soul mates,” Elrond told him.

 

“So much has changed. I apologise for upsetting any of you, especially you ex-king Oropher, and you Legolas, bonded mate of my ion. I accept that the old enmities are no more and that I must discard them. I also accept that I have been most offensive to you all. Please forgive me.” Maglor stood up. “I think I need a bath now. It will also give me time to think. If you are agreeable then we can talk tomorrow, but for now I am too overwhelmed and there is too much racing around in my head.” He walked off to the bathroom and shut the door. I sincerely hoped he knew how to use the taps and what foaming bath oil was for, before chiding myself for being so judgemental. I could see why the memory of Maglor was so loved in spite of the atrocities he participated in. In that one moment of apology he had shown how easy it was for him to sway the hearts of others.

 

“Right,” Elrond said. “Come with me Mel, you can use your powers to intensify my healing energy.”

 

They went out of the room to see Merilnis, and I could hear the flapping of wings again. “Ah! That will be Galadriel.” I heard Elrond tell Mel as I followed behind. “I sent an eagle for her because two lots of healing energy are always better than one.”

 

Galadriel stormed through the door and gave us a big beaming smile. “I am soaked through but Merilnis comes first. Why haven’t you started yet, Elrond?”

 

“I was waiting for you,” he said weakly.

 

“Nonsense,” Galadriel said as she walked past him. “Come on Elrond, we haven’t got all night.”

 

“Yes, Galadriel.” He followed on behind. Mel sniggered and Elrond caught his arm. “Get a move on, I am not sitting in a room on my own with Shelob’s little sister.”

 

Mel looked behind at us and gave a cheeky grin before going into Merilnis’ room. I turned away and took Círdan’s arm.

 

“We will stay with Merilnis and Maglor," Erestor said to me. “Why don’t you get some sleep? You have a lot of refugees to look after in a few hours.”

 

“I will see you tomorrow,” I said and yawned.

 

“Go on, get yourself away to bed.” Legolas kissed me. “Night night.”

 

We left the healing block and went to our rooms. We were sleeping in the elflings’ rooms as ours were damaged. I settled into bed and snuggled up to Círdan. “Close your eyes,” he said to me and kissed my lips.

 

So I did.

 

 

 

 

**Part 146 – Sharp Eared Elflings.**

   


Círdan and I slept in Cireolas’ bedroom and the elflings slept together in Ereodan’s bedroom. The nannies slept in Jeli’s bedroom. It would have to do until our apartment could be repaired, which would take quite a while to achieve. The windows overlooking the sea were smashed and some of the frames had been washed away. Our private quarters were completely waterlogged; the painted scenes on the ceilings and in the bathroom, were damaged, probably beyond repair, and all the stucco carvings were broken. Plaster was gouged from the walls by water propelled furniture and our bed was completely ruined. Cireolas’ bedroom was damaged by the water, but the nannies had done their best to clean it all away before we put a single bed in there. It was intended for Ereodan to use when he was a bit older and was previously in the store cupboard with Jeli’s new bed, which Cireolas now slept on. They were far too small at the moment to use their beds, but we had received them from the Stiffy Toy Company when they were born. I expect they knew we would have their cots already and so they did the next best thing. Thank the Valar they did or else we would have slept on the ground.

 

By necessity, Círdan and I had to sleep very close together and be careful how we moved to avoid falling out of bed. We were not in the same room as the elflings but I wondered if we dared do anything. Both the twins can hear a gnat fart twenty miles away, and Cireolas' hearing is just as sharp; however, he doesn’t understand the odd noise, but the twins would, and they would remark upon it.

 

“Muffy,” I whispered. “I need to turn over.”

 

“But I am comfortable.” Círdan is such a whiner.

 

“Your willy is digging in my hip,” I hissed.

 

“Then do something about it,” he hissed back. He placed his hand on my sleep trousers and remarked that mine was liable to do some damage as well.

 

“Right.” I gave him a determined look as he lay on his back, a wide grin on his face. I lay on top of him, took both our willies in my hand and pumped up and down. The bed started to squeak. I stopped for a moment to listen, hoping the twins hadn't heard us.

 

“What’s that noise?” Jeli’s reedy little voice called out. “Ereodan, did you hear that noise?”

 

“Yes I did. It woke me up.”

 

“Get to sleep,” Muffy ordered, as he tightened his arms around me. “You will wake Ada Ereolas.” I sniggered; he is so clever.

 

“Well what were you doing?” Jeli asked.

 

“Turning over in bed. Now be quiet or else you will wake your ada and Cireolas.”

 

“They are like rabbits,” Ereolas muttered.

 

“Absolutely,” Jeli agreed. “Neither of them have any breeding.”

 

“How are adas like rabbits?” Cireolas asked. I sighed.

 

“I told you not to wake Cireolas up,” Círdan shouted to our naughty twins in the next bedroom.

 

“He was already awake, weren’t you Cireolas?” Jeli said. I could hear the smirk in her voice.

 

“I was wake up when your bed squeak, Ada,” Cireolas called out.”Is it time to get up yet?”

 

“Not yet,” Círdan called back. “Go back to sleep all three of you or else I will tell Mel and Glorfindel to go home because you are being naughty.”

 

“Noooo,” Cireolas called out. “I love Unca Mel and Unca Fin. Don’t send them home. I go to sleep.”

 

“Yes, don’t send them home. I like them,” Jeli shouted. “If you do I will call you Mr. Meanypants.”

 

I shook with silent laughter and the bed squeaked. “You have woken Ada Ereolas up now,” Círdan said quickly.

 

“We promise to go to sleep,” Ereodan called out. We then heard him whisper to the others to be quiet so that we did not send their favourite uncles home. If anything we are consistent and the twins know it.

 

“Why were you shouting, Meleth?” I asked, a big grin on my face.

 

“I have just had to threaten to send the elflings’ favourite uncles home,” Círdan replied, a big smile on his face as he pulled me in to kiss his lips.

 

“Now that we are awake we should check on all the refugees.” I gave a saucy wink to my incredibly sexy husband as I ground my hardness against his.

 

“I hope they are all right,” Círdan agreed, as if concerned. I handed him his dressing gown and put mine on.

 

“We won’t be long,” I called to our elflings. “Be good.” Before they could answer we were out of the door.

 

I caught hold of Círdan’s elbow and pulled him with me. We laughed like naughty children as we ran through the corridor that connected our private rooms to the formal living room, which was filled with refugees from the town. The guards watched as we made our way across the sleeping bodies to the other side without waking anyone.

 

“Where are we going?” Círdan asked.

 

“Down to the docks and on your ship.” I took his hand, pulling him with me. None of our ships were damaged when the fight between Sauron and Mel had taken place, whereas the pirate ships were completely destroyed. Our dungeon cells were bursting with the pirates we fished from the sea. The colony was now under our control and we would shortly sail our ships to enforce our rule.

 

“Why?” Muffy asked as we ran down the castle stairs.

 

“Oh really! Why do you think?”

 

He grinned, confirming that he was not as stupid as I supposed he might be. “I cannot wait. Run faster!”

 

We found Círdan’s ship and called out for the guards to let us on. A rope ladder was slung down the side and we climbed up. “We will be in my cabin,” Círdan said to the sailor who greeted us. “I will not appreciate being disturbed, unless it is a matter of life and death.”

 

“Yes, My Lord.” The sailor bowed and unlocked the door leading to the Captain’s cabin. Over one side was a small staircase leading down to a bedroom on the deck beneath. We went down the stairs as soon as Círdan had locked the door.

 

The mattress was bare, so we took some sheets and blankets to make the bed. It was summer, but the air was cool aboard the ship. After sleeping in a damp single bed I needed the dry comfort of a well made double.

 

“Get in.” I gave Círdan my sexiest grin.

 

Muffy did not need telling twice. He threw the covers back and jumped in. I knelt between his legs and pulled him up to a sitting position, kissing his mouth hard. His hand held the back of my neck as he sought to control the kiss, but I wouldn't let him. My fingers pushed through his hair so it wrapped around my fist, as our lips pushed together in a frenzy of need, our tongues sliding together with the roughest intensity.

 

Moving down, I left a trail of sucking bites across Círdan's chest while he pulled my hair and tried to move my head down to his cock. “All in good time,” I growled and smacked his thigh as he laughed.

 

I pulled him down a bit by his hips and straddled his chest. “Open.” My cock pushed against his parted lips. Breathing heavily, I watched greedily as he took my hardness into his mouth. The wet warmth felt like my cock was slipping into its natural home. Círdan grabbed my arse cheeks and pulled me in further, then he pushed me away slightly and pulled me back in. I had been without sex for a couple of days, after missing it for so long it was not surprising that I came pretty fast.

 

I was my turn to return the favour and I did. I shared Círdan's juices when I kissed him hard on the lips. We fooled around for a while afterwards, touching each other and stroking firm muscles, our light-hearted banter and protestations of love increasing our desire until nothing could keep us from exploring each other much further.

 

I have the largest smile on my face as I remember. Now I must go and find my love so we can re-enact what happened last night. So that I record and accurate account when I write about it in my diary, of course!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Part 147 – Sex Onboard Círdan’s Ship – Must Do It Again!**

 

 

I pushed Círdan’s shoulder against the mattress. “Open your legs,” I ordered, before kissing his hand as it caressed my cheek. He drew his legs up and I gently sucked the skin over his balls whilst lightly working my hand up and down his hardness. When I looked up, Círdan had his hands behind his head. He smiled at me and told me to, 'get on with it'. My tongue worked down to his secret entrance where I licked and thrust the pointed tip through the small puckered rosebud. Muffy sighed with pleasure. I took some oil from my dressing gown pocket and coated my fingers. I put two just inside and angled them to rub against his source of delight. He gave a small moan and begged me not to make him wait, so I withdrew, oiled my hardness and pushed in.

 

I cannot keep my hands away from my only one. I love every square inch of Muffy. As I thrust in and out I caressed his face and kissed his scented skin. He smells divine and every part of him fills me with joy and lust. We can be sitting on our thrones, in front of our courtiers, and all I can think of is how smooth his skin is to my touch and how soft his silken hair feels between my fingers. One look from him sends my heart into joyous rapture, and what is more he knows this. Together we are unified perfection, and as our hands stroke each others’ smooth skin over our hard muscles we become closer until we can hold ourselves no more. Swiftly I took him in hand and we came together, our tongues in concert and our lips pressed in urgent union.

 

“Fuck, that was good,” Círdan said as I lay beside him. “Let me get my breath back." He took my hand. "Here, feel my heart. If I was human I would be having a heart attack right now. That is how good you are.”

 

I know that the evening is not ended yet. He intends having me and I willingly give myself to him, so that our night and our cycle of love is completed. I am sated and feel pleasantly tired, and full of love for my mate. I still cannot get enough of him, and as I snuggle closer his arms close around my body. It is time for my eyes to close and for us both to go to sleep.

 

In the morning we loved each other again and then, reluctantly, we put our dressing gowns back on. My body is well used and I have the glow of one who has been well loved. Círdan is especially affectionate this morning and I am also to him. We are inseparable. Círdan will always remain the first and last in my heart. There will never be any other than him, and never would I want it to be any different. He is my life and without him I am nothing.

 

“I do not want to go back to the castle yet,” I said as I massaged Círdan’s shoulders. “I want to spend today alone with you.”

 

“If we were not the rulers it would be simplicity to arrange.” Círdan smiled and caught my hand to kiss it. “I love you.”

 

I kissed my Muffy softly on his irresistible lips. How I adore being with my love, he is truly my only one and I will love him for all our immortality and beyond. “I love you too,” I said before kissing his lips again.

 

“I suppose we do not have to go back to the castle straightaway.” Círdan pulled me towards him. “On your hands and knees, right now.” I was already there.

 

In the end, we had to go back to the castle, walking in daylight with only our dressing gowns and sleepwear on. I glared at anyone who dared to smirk our way.

 

By the late morning, the waters had receded and the refugees, for the most part, had gone to the city to clean out the damage to their houses. The damaged living accommodation in the castle was being makeshift repaired. It would take months to restore our apartments but at least we now had window frames, even though they were boarded up. All the glass was collected so that it could be taken to the glassworks and made into new replacement panes. We could take the boards down during the day to allow Anor’s light to dry out our rooms. Our mattress was waterlogged and so it was carted down to the ship and hung from the mast to drip dry and replaced it with the one in Círdan’s cabin, where we had slept the previous night. There was a lot of cleaning to do, but first I had to go and see how Merilnis was. We took our elflings so they could say hello to Maglor.

 

In the healing block we were greeted by Erestor and Legolas. “Where Unca Mel?” Cireolas asked hopefully. “Erestor Teddy want to see him.”

 

“Here I am, little Cireolas,” Mel called from a chair by the fire. It was summer but so far the weather had not been too warm, except for the occasional day. “Come and sit with me.”

 

Cireolas hurriedly ran to see Mel, whom he thinks is the greatest elf alive. “We got no windows in our rooms.”

 

“We want to sit with Unca Mel too,” Geli said, as if she was missing out on something great. I took both twins over. Mel was covered in babies, but he didn’t mind at all.

 

“Shall we sing the monkey song?” The elflings agreed. Mel’s singing voice is better than it used to be; he led them in song so loudly that Thranduil wondered loudly if the entrance hall was full of cats.

 

“How is Maglor?” I asked Erestor.

 

“He is reading a book entitled, ‘The Social and Financial Implications of Maintaining a Dynamically Coherent Third Age Elven Warrior Culture, with Reference to Survival Measures Implemented During the Second Age to Maintain Continuity in a Land and Sea Based Realm, by His Most Gracious and Supreme Highness, Prince Oropher the Magnificent, Illustrious and Shining Star of all Arda. Surprisingly it is the second edition; who would have thought?” Erestor gave me a sardonic look which involved raising an eyebrow.

 

“No doubt he will be riveted then,” I replied and smiled pleasantly. “How is Merilnis?”

 

Círdan and I followed Erestor into Merilnis’ room. Her hands were bandaged as they were the night before but they looked bigger. Thranduil looked at me. “Her fingers are growing back. Elrond, Galadriel and Mel have spent most of the night with her.”

 

I gave Thranduil a hug and asked him why he did not catch some sleep; he looked so tired he could hardly keep his eyes open. He said that he could not leave Merilnis and would stay by her side until she was better.

 

Elrond and Galadriel were having a break and, according to one of the healers, they were sleeping in chairs in the herb room. Poor Mel had wanted to sleep by the fire, because he had helped as well and was worn out, but my elflings were climbing all over him. Glorfindel was around somewhere, so I felt sure he could take the elflings off Mel and let him sleep.

 

I kissed Merilnis’ sleeping form and whispered that I hoped she felt better soon, and Círdan did too, before we left to see Maglor.

 

Not waiting for Glorfindel to rescue his husband, we picked up the elflings and I told Mel that he should get some sleep. He curled up on the chair and pulled a thick blanket over his body. I put one of the cushions from the sofa under his head and ruffled his hair. “Night, night, Mel.” I walked off laughing. He hates his hair being ruffled.

 

“Hello Maglor.” He put his book down and stared at us. “We have brought your Great-Grand elflings to see you.”

 

“Hello,” Jeli said and waved. “You have dark hair like me.” Maglor smiled at her.

 

“You look a bit like Grand Ada Erestor.” Ereodan grinned.

 

“That is because I am his ada, little one,” Maglor replied.

 

“I Cirrus,” Cireolas said. “I got Maglor doll. It got jewel on it. Doll look like you. It not here now. I got Erestor Teddy.”

 

“I would very much like to see your doll,” Maglor replied gracing my eldest ion with a wide smile. “Are you sure it looks exactly like me?”

 

“I bring it next time.” Cireolas gave him a beaming grin. “You see. Erestor Teddy want kiss.” Maglor took the teddy, kissed it, and gave it back.

 

“Cireolas has the whole Fëanor and his ionen collection,” Jeli said proudly. “And he lets us play with them.”

 

“Yes, sometimes we get them to swear stupid oaths. Jeli thinks of some really good ones,” Ereodan said.

 

“We do all the voices.” Cireolas chuckled. “Sometimes we get Unca Mel and Unca Fin to help us do them. We play Hello Vampire as well.”

 

Maglor was lost. He had no idea what Hello Vampire was, or why the oath swearing of so many ages ago was now an elflings’ playtime game. I expect he wondered what his life had been for. He seemed fascinated by the twins, especially Jeli. I suppose he thought he might have known them once before. They never said and neither did Círdan or me. I expect it occurred to Jeli very quickly that Maglor might not believe that she was his ada in a former life, now that she was a little girl; he simply would not believe her. Nor might he believe that Ereinion was reborn blond. Neither of us wanted our elflings true identities to surface, especially Jeli’s, and so we were pleased when neither volunteered who they were.

 

Now off to the city to look at all the damage and to show support. It is going to be another tiring day.

 

 


	51. Part 148 –  Silimaurë's New Position. Part 149 – Sitting in the Sun. Part 150 – Oropher Addresses the Mithlond Warriors. Part 151 – Cheeky Jeli and Mélawen.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ereolas inspects the damage to the townsfolk’s housing and moves Silimaurë to another job. Silimaurë is not happy. The family picnic in the grounds and are met by Erestor and Maglor. Ereolas addresses the Mithlond warrior’s. Ereolas visits the elflings in the school room.

 

 

**Part 148 –  Silimaurë's New Position**

 

 

 

After the Battle of the Monkeys in the breakfast hall, Mel was able to repair the damage caused by the fighting. I wondered if he could do it again this time. He told me that he could only repair what he had seen damaged. Oh well! It was worth a try I suppose. The rooms are slowly drying out and it helps that we can take the window boards down for Anor’s beams to shine through and speed the drying process.  Mel has created a gap in the storm clouds so that the castle and city area are exposed to strong sunshine. This is a welcome respite from all the bad weather we have endured recently and is speeding the drying out of the houses in the city at a rate no one thought possible, given the severity of the previous weather. We are still swamped with refugees, though not as many as before. I cannot wait for them to go home so that we can clean up the castle too.

 

Today we went to a meeting with the Castle Finance Committee who are very guarded in their responses since I threatened to have them all executed for procrastination. I have told them that the refugees’ housing repairs have to be done first and the castle can wait, apart from making the building and rooms safe, so that we are not accused of making our comfort a priority over the less fortunate of the citizens. They were unhappy but did not dare to protest. Círdan sat with a smug smile on his face as I laid down the law to the halfwits, and I felt his foot caressing my ankle as I did so. It is all politics really. If one is rich and has supreme power, other elves assume that their suffering is not so great when adverse events happen. It can be a source of jealously and mutual dissent if the rich elf’s home is repaired before that of a poorer elf’s one. We have to be seen to be fair, and often that means things are not very fair at all and are often loaded against the seemingly more fortunate. Injury, death and loss affect me with the same force that it would another. It is true that the peripheral, accompanying consequences might not be as severe for me, for example, I might not go without food, but the emotional effect is the same. I think it is also fair to point out that as an elf I have endured more than any of our citizens in both my lives, but that would be forgotten in a trice if I let them fend for themselves and repaired the castle first. All this would not be an issue if we did not have to use craftselves from the town. So, we will have to wait our turn. I am fractious because I am sleeping in Cireolas’ waterlogged bedroom and even though the mattress and bedstead from the ship is dry I can feel the damp gradually creeping through it. Our own bedroom is in an even worse state, and, according to the castle surveyor, it is not safe to use until it is dried out and has been tested for safety.

 

We met with the Disaster Relief Fund and they outlined plans for the repairs of the houses. They gave details of those already engaged and I urged them not to spare any expense as I wanted a speedy resolution. Happily, we can afford not to consider cost; the Valar pay us handsomely for every elf we sail to Valinor and we often find jewels and pearls washed up on our private beach. After the incident with Janet, the Kraken, we found a pile of gold, pearls, precious stones and assorted treasure, in a secret cave at the back of our beach. Mel transferred all of the treasure to the secure storerooms by making it tiny enough to fit in a bucket and then expanding it once it was set in place. I am glad that we have escaped the attentions of covetous dragons; we would be in serious trouble if they found out about our hoard!

 

Afterwards we visited the town to show support and let the affected elves know the plans for rebuilding their houses. They seemed happy that we would put them first and appreciated the castle staff coming down en masse to help them. As a part of reassuring them I offered to inspect the city flood defences and have them improved. This was met with a cheer. Círdan told me not to overdo it.

 

“I apologise if I am making you feel inadequate,” I whispered pleasantly.

 

“You obviously want to be tied to the bed and flogged,” Círdan replied softly, with a wicked smile on his face.

 

“Let’s go home now,” I said, so only Círdan could hear. “I am wet just thinking about it.”

 

“I wish these townsfolk could know just how coarse you are.”

 

“Happily, only you know that, and it's lucky for you that I am.” I looked at him with an adoring smile.

 

“It is the play room for you when we get back.” Círdan grinned widely when an elleth in the crowd remarked to another just how loving we were to each other. She had seen our smiles and our mouths moving but had not heard a word.

 

Silimaurë was by our side, but at a respectful distance. I motioned for him to come closer. “I have a new job for you. You are to be the head of the city flood defences. It will be a most powerful position and one I think you will be well suited to.”

 

“Yes, my Lord,” Silimaurë replied unenthusiastically.

 

“Is there a problem? Do not say there is not because I can see there is.”

 

“My Lord, I am Captain of the Guard. It is all I ever wanted to be. What do I know about flood defences?” Silimaurë seemed downcast and he had every reason to be.

 

“Silimaurë,” I said gently. “You are one of the finest warriors in Mithlond. Your warriors are also extremely good fighters. However, none of you fight as a unit, and that is your downfall and theirs. I am moving you to a position of authority and power because I believe you can do it. I have seen you trying to mould the warriors into a cohesive unit and fail for various reasons that are mainly not of your own making. I would venture that very few would be able to bring that lot into order. “

 

“I have done my best,” Silimaurë said unhappily. “I have implemented all of Glorfindel’s measures.”

 

“Yes, I know you have, and you are getting hardly any cooperation from those under you. It is a question of the warriors’ attitude, so we are going to be hard on them. I would rather not be hard on you as I know how much you have tried this past year. Therefore I am removing you from the situation so that we can deal with the warriors once and for all. When they are fully dealt with you may want to be their leader again. That is why I am giving you this position. You will still be directly over others and will become well practised in proper leadership.”

 

“It seems like I am being punished in spite of your assurances.” I could not believe Silimaurë was still whining.

 

“You are not being punished.” I sighed. “Far from it. Your warriors will be punished though. Think of it as being temporarily removed from a situation that will become extremely unpleasant for those who are left.”

 

“Who will be the new Captain?”

 

“I will. I intend whipping them hard, because I am still angry that my warriors allowed a pirate to breach our defences. They thought we would be safe from attack because it was raining. I know you had them flogged and demoted for that, but it is not enough. They either improve or they will be sacked, it is as simple as that.”

 

“It seems I am the first to be sacked,” Silimaurë looked very upset. I thought he might burst into tears, which would never do.

 

“Not at all,” Círdan told him. “It is because you understand the need for warriors to bond that we have removed you from what will happen. You have always fought a losing battle with those elves. With most of them being descended from older families, it cannot have been easy for you. They are about to learn a harsh lesson, and will not be able to associate it with you, or blame you, simply because you are doing another job.”

 

“Besides,” I said with a conciliatory grin. “It pays half as much again as what you already receive.”

 

“Just think,” Círdan said. “When the flood defences are in place and everyone remains dry you will be their hero.”

 

“There is a certain cachet in being the Captain of the Guard,” Silimaurë protested. “I can’t see any in being the head of the flood defence committee.”

 

“Yes there is a cachet, and that is why I am not replacing you with someone lower in status. I am taking over, and as I am the co-ruler of this realm you will not lose face and can come back when I decide.”

 

“You are in a much more fortuitous position than the others,” Círdan told him. “Furthermore you may enjoy your new role, and, if you do, you may want to become an advisor or even represent the realm abroad.”

 

“There are a whole host of possibilities,” I said, jollying him along. “Just look at Erestor, he hasn’t always been an advisor, he started off as a warrior and a spy, and was even Captain of King Gil-Galad’s Guard for a while, which was most useful when representing Lindon afterwards in a diplomatic capacity.”

 

“I promise you Silimaurë,” Círdan said. “You are set to go onwards and upwards. That is why I made you Captain of the Guard in the first place. You show potential. You would be wasted if you did not expand your abilities. This is a way to do just that.”

 

Silimaurë still looked crushed, but less so than before. “I suppose I have my baby iell to think of now. I am sure she would not like her ada to fall in action.”

 

“That’s the spirit,” Círdan said. “When all this is over we can celebrate your promotion properly.”

 

That appeased Silimaurë more than anything. He was being promoted and that was not as bad as being moved sideways. He could go home and tell his wife, without losing face, and she would remain happy. It is most strange how ellith rule their households so that even the toughest ellyn are careful of what they say and do.

 

We approached the broken walls of the old city defence and I turned to Silimaurë. “What do you think?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Part 149 – Sitting in the Sun.**

 

 

We arrived back at the castle shortly after lunch. Happily, the cooks had saved some sandwiches, soup and dessert for us. We ate in the gardens, near the fountain, because it was such a nice day.

 

“When are we going to get a decent pudding?” Ereodan said as he looked at his bowl of semolina. “Why do Jeli and I have to eat this crap when there are nicer things?”

 

“Because you are babies and you have to eat crap because the interesting desserts will give you a runny bottom,” I replied. Círdan smirked.

 

“I bet they would not,” Jeli said rather indignantly. “You have a large semolina mountain in the kitchen and you are making us eat it.”

 

“Whether we are or not there is precious little you can do about it,” Círdan told her. “We are your parents and you are our elflings, so you will do as you are told.”

 

“I eat trifle because I am big boy,” Cireolas beamed. “I not eat trifle when baby.”

 

“How I wish Cireolas would use connecting words,” Ereodan muttered to his twin. “It is very difficult to understand him sometimes.” Jeli nodded in sympathy.

 

“How dare you!” Círdan barked. “Apologise to your brother this instant.” Poor Cireolas had no idea what his little brother was talking about, which was lucky really.

 

“I am sorry but my conscience forbids me. If you push the point I will go on a hunger strike.” Ereodan threw his spoon across the grass. His dramatic gesture fell short because his throw is rather weak. It travelled all of two feet.

 

“That’s fine.” Círdan took Ereodan's bowl away. Then he turned to Jeli. “I hope you are not of the same mind, young lady?”

 

“I think it would be most expedient if I said I was not.” Jeli gave Círdan a huge grin. “Therefore I am not of the same mind and I would like a cuddle.” I swear our little iell can wrap Círdan round her little finger, even though he denies it.

 

Ereodan began to cry. He cried with the intensity of one who had been struck. Cireolas went to put his arm around his brother but Círdan told him not to. “Just ignore the naughty little boy. He will learn not to be horrid about others.”

 

“I give him cuddle, even if he is naughty. He is upset.” Cireolas put his arm around Ereodan and told him not to cry. My eldest ion is such a lovely little elfling; I am so proud of him. I hope Elrohir realises the wonderful gift the Valar have given him in making my ion his soul mate.

 

In the distance, Erestor and Maglor walked toward us. They were deep in conversation, but when Ereodan started crying, Erestor looked up. They did not hurry to see what was happening because Ereodan is always bursting into tears when he cannot have his own way, or has been told off. He was never like that when he was Ereinion, at least I don’t think he was!

 

We finished our cheese and onion sandwiches and drank the potato and carrot soup. It was as good as can be expected from a kitchen working solely from stores. As soon as the refugees have left the castle, and the warriors have finished helping them move back in, we are going to send a party off to kill a few animals in the forest and we will take delivery of supplies from our local farms.  It is lucky the crops are late this year, they are still in the fields awaiting harvest. Mel has widened the circle of good weather to include the farms, so it will only be a short while to wait for more interesting food to be delivered. For dessert we had cold rice pudding over dried apricots; I gave mine to Cireolas.

 

Ereodan noticed straightaway. “He gets nice food and I don’t.”

 

“You are a baby and not able to eat lumps yet,” Círdan explained. “When you can eat lumps you can have nicer food.”

 

“Ada,” Ereodan cried, his tiny arms outstretched. “Can I have some milk please? Do not let me starve to death like my other ada would.”

 

I picked him up and pushed him under my robe, so no one could see him drinking. Círdan raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

 

“The hunger strike didn’t last very long,” Jeli remarked; she looked disappointed.

 

Ereodan stuck his head through the side of my robe. “It was bound to fail, due to me being the victim of an uncaring, totalitarian regime.” He then put his head back in and began sucking.

 

“Leave some for me,” Jeli shouted. “Isn’t he a silly Billy?” She giggled. Círdan told her not to be unkind.

 

Cireolas waved to Erestor, stood up and did a wobbly run towards him and Maglor. “Grand Ada,” he shouted, and squealed with joy when Erestor picked him up and threw him high in the air then caught him. “Do it again, do it again...”

 

“No, you will bring your dinner up all over me, and your adas will not be pleased.” Erestor gave Cireolas a kiss.

 

“They not mind.” Cireolas gave a cheeky grin; then he leant back over Erestor’s arms so his face was upside down. He greeted Maglor, who ruffled his hair.

 

“Hello, little Cireolas.” Maglor grinned.

 

“Look I upside down,” Cireolas squeaked. “I can be sick over Grand Ada’s feet.”

 

Erestor pulled him up sharply. “Sick over my feet and you lick it up.”

 

Cireolas laughed loudly. Apart from Mel, he thought Erestor was one of the greatest elves he knew.  “You not make me lick up sick,” Cireolas said matter of factly. “Grand Ada Leggas tell you off and send you to bed early.”

 

“He sends me to bed early even when I am not naughty.” Erestor laughed as he sat down beside me. Maglor sat next to him.

 

Jeli looked around and said hello to Maglor and Erestor before putting her thumb back in her mouth. I noticed that she was holding onto Círdan’s ear. Maglor looked confused. “Where is your baby boy?”

 

“He is under my robe having a drink,” I replied. “Yes, I do feed my babies and no, I am not an elleth. I do not have conventional tits.”

 

“Ereolas is a bit touchy about his tits,” Erestor said to Maglor. I glared at him. “See what I mean?”

 

“I was just doing away with all the questions I am normally asked,” I said to Maglor. “It is not a subject I like to expound at length upon.”

 

“Most elves think that Ada is a freak, but he isn’t really,” Jeli said. “We would starve to death if it were not for Ada, now that he has banned wet nursing.”

 

“Your wife made you ban wet nursing in Amon Lanc. Did she not?” Maglor asked.

 

“I banned it. She became extremely angry because I wouldn't let her palm our elfling off on someone else to feed. Anyway, she saw it was going to happen anyway and so she announced that it was her idea and had spent many hours trying to persuade me. A year before that she tried to usurp my kingdom. Most of her supporters were executed, so she did what she could to make me look a complete bastard and paint herself in a good light.” A short explanation from me was all Maglor needed.

 

“You know what elves are like,” Maglor said quietly. “They prefer gossip over the truth. The more scandalous and interesting, the more they believe it. It does not surprise me, what you have told me; the ban here tells me that you must have been the original thinker in Amon Lanc.”

 

“Thank you.” I could hear snoring from under my robe, so I pulled Ereodan out through the side. He looked so sweet when asleep. I put him under the parasol that Círdan had placed on the rug and let him sleep.

 

“My turn,” Jeli yelled at the top of her voice because she knew her brother was asleep. I took her off Círdan and put her under my robe. “It’s dark in here.” I opened the neck a little so that the top of her head could be seen and felt her mouth attached to my nipple.

 

Erestor, Maglor and Círdan stared at me. Cireolas had fallen asleep with his thumb in his mouth. “When you were a baby, Erestor, what you did not drink your nana used to give to me.” He smirked. It was good to see his mischievous side showing through.

 

Erestor looked uncomfortable and replied that he did not want to know. “Oh come on,” Círdan laughed. “It is common knowledge that you have done it as well. Mel told everyone when Ereolas was born. There was a little knot hole in the bedroom door and he used to look through it. What was it that Elrond said?” Círdan appeared to consider for a moment. “Oh yes! Mel was the only elfling ever to get pink eye.”

 

I laughed. Not to be outdone, Erestor asked me what we did with the unused milk. I think he did not expect me to reply that I allowed Círdan to drink it. “I expect he will be most disappointed when the supply dries up,” Erestor mused, smiling at my husband, whose face went bright red. At least I did not tell ada that my milk was an integral part of our sex as well.

 

“Why? Were you disappointed too?” Maglor asked innocently. Erestor could not believe his ears. “Your ada has a sense of humour, much improved in the past few years by the witterings of Sauron and Saruman, who argue like an old married couple. He paid me hardly any attention when he was torturing Saruman. If I sat quietly they did not notice me, and I could enjoy their bickering.” Maglor looked away. “It was not always like that though. When Sauron noticed me again it was like living the worst nightmare, but I would not wish to spoil the atmosphere on this lovely day...”

 

Jeli pulled the front of my robe down so we could see her face. “Poor Maglor. At least you are free now. Most are never seen again when Sauron takes them. It could have been worse; you could have been at the mercy of Melkor.”

 

Maglor smiled at her and she went back to feeding. “I apologise,” he said. “I should not have mentioned anything in front of the elflings.”

 

“It matters not, after what they have witnessed in the past few days,” I replied. “If anything they will know that not all is good and that a very real darkness still exists.”

 

“There is a very real darkness in here,” Jeli called out, pulling the front of my robe down again. “It’s light now.” She gave me the sweetest smile.

 

“Do you want to come out of there, little one?” I pulled the side of my robe open.

 

Círdan picked her up and held her in his arms. She sucked her thumb, and we watched as she slowly drifted off to sleep. She was placed under the parasol next to her sleeping brothers.

 

“How wonderful to see elflings without a care in the world, and knowing that it will remain that way, now the one who would take our freedom is defeated. I know it will not be forever, but it will be a long while before he can gather his strength again.” Maglor relaxed in the hot sunshine and his cares seemed to lift as he did so.

 

“We have the salad days before the storm,” Círdan said. I looked at him sleepily as he took my hand.

 

“The storm is always ahead,” Erestor said as he lazily chewed a stalk of grass. “But how we meet it decides whether we survive or not.”

 

“This is why I have taken over as Captain of The Guard. The other day proved that we are defenceless. If it were not for Mel then we would be at Sauron’s mercy now. The guards failed to carry out their duties properly, and an attempt was made upon my life, which led to this battle and all the damage that ensued. They cannot be allowed to do it again.”

 

“How did they fail?” Maglor asked.

 

“They were supposed to be guarding the terrace. As it was pouring with rain they assumed nothing would happen, and so they went in the work tent and warmed their hands over the brazier,” Círdan told him. “Blackheart Jack Lash climbed up the side of the mountain, scaled the curtain wall, and hid until he saw Ereolas. Then he aimed an arrow at him, which he caught with his bare hand.”

 

“He was working for Sauron,” Maglor told us. “Stupid fool, thought he could do a deal with him. By the time he realised he could not it was too late.”

 

“If the warriors had done their jobs properly he would not have been able to gain entry. As it was, he did gain entry and was able to hide for several hours before attacking me. When he escaped no one caught him.” I was still miffed at the breach of security. “It is most fortunate that I am fully Oropher. I would not have been able to catch the arrow with my hand in either of my previous two incarnations.”

 

“Did you have the Captain of the Guard flogged for his warriors’ disobedience?” Maglor asked.

 

“I promoted him to that position and did not take into account that he was not of an old family; his family have only been titled for the past thousand years. Of course, there was a lot of bad feeling and it has been an uphill struggle for him ever since. He is an excellent warrior and has tried his best.” Círdan sighed; it was all a most unpleasant business especially as we counted Silimaurë as a friend.

 

“I would whip them into shape. When I headed Ereinion’s Guard my warriors were absolute in their loyalty,” Maglor remarked. “Elves fear a kinslayer like no one else.”

 

“Are you offering?” I asked. It would be most fortunate if he was, because according to the old tales Maglor was like Erestor, a total bastard when it came to enforcing discipline. Elrond told me that there were two Maglors when he lived with him; the kind and gentle Ada figure whom Elrond remembers was in stark contrast to how he was when leading his warriors.

 

“I would do it,” Maglor said.

 

“You can be my second,” I told him. “The previous second sailed after losing his arm in a horse accident. I give you free reign, and, in effect, you will be the head of the Guard. My name remains as Captain because I will ratify the discipline measures to be put in place and back you up if there is any disobedience or mutiny.”

 

“There will be neither,” Maglor replied. “I punish disobedience with the utmost severity.” Like ada, like ion; Erestor is exactly the same.

 

“Being at the head will be good for you,” Erestor said to me. “For too long the warriors have had a lack of respect for your rule. Although you have sorted quite a lot of that out now, you still need to lead them to show you are serious.”

 

“Then it is done,” I said to Maglor. “When you are completely better, you can whip the Guard into shape.”

 

“I will enjoy doing so,” Maglor said. “Thank you, it will give me something to do. It will take a while before I am back to full strength but afterwards I will give it my best.”

 

The warrior guard will never know what had hit them!

 

 

 

 

 

**Part 150 – Oropher Addresses the Mithlond Warriors.**

  
 

It was four o’clock in the morning. The summer air felt cold. Anor’s light peeped over the horizon, her rays not yet touching the earth. Before me stood my army of warriors, every single one of them wondering why I had ordered them to rise so early. It seemed a good idea at the time, but even I wondered why I had decided to forego an extra three hours in bed and my morning session with Muffy, who was still wandering in dreamland.

 

I addressed my warriors in an off the cuff speech, telling them that I was officially the new Captain of the Guard. They all knew that Silimaurë had been promoted, and there was lots of postulating as to which one of them might be the new leader, now they knew and they looked none too happy.

 

“I am aware of the prejudices that most of you hold about those who come from families that have not been titled for as long as your families have; however, my family has been titled since the elves awoke on the shores of Cuiviénen. Perhaps I should despise you all for not having a comparable lineage?” This was a direct reference to how they had viewed Silimaurë. I hoped they were not too stupid to appreciate what I meant.

 

There was a very quiet confused murmuring. I am the sort of leader who singles out mutterers and asks them to repeat what they said in front of everyone, so all of them made sure not to bring attention to themselves.

 

I continued, and just so they understood I bludgeoned them over the head with it. “Silimaurë has been promoted and I have taken over as Captain of the Guard. When Silimaurë was Captain your behaviour bordered on mutiny. Why was this? I suspect it was due to jealousy. For some reason, most of you considered that your titles, and the length of time you or your family have held them, gave you the right to be considered for promotion over another who was clearly a far better warrior than any of you. Silimaurë was an outstanding warrior, a fighter beyond compare, which none of you are. Therefore, as you seem to respect lineage so much, I have taken over as your leader,. I tell you now, very few have a lineage as long and as far reaching as my own, and yet I am the first to say that none of this matters. The enemy will not pause to consider your position in society as they strike you down; however, if you are of good fighting ability and work as a team they might just.” I paused to let this nugget of information sink in and reflected how Círdan and I had sighed when watching Silimaurë working out, because he was married and unattainable. A threesome with him would have been divine; Erviniae is a very lucky elleth.

 

“You all seem to hold that a long lineage is the mark of a good leader. I have a longer one than any of you and I have several titles; therefore you should be overjoyed to be led by one as illustrious as me. I tell you all now, you will all heartily wish and pray to the Valar that you had not been so hard on Silimaurë because I intend driving you all into the ground. If I have to half kill you to make you a cohesive fighting unit then I will. There will be no repeat ever of the events that led to the completely avoidable devastation of the castle and town. The blame for that can be laid completely at your feet because you are all ineffectual and decided not to follow the approved routines put in place by Lord Glorfindel and Prince Melpomaen at Lord Círdan’s bidding. Every one of you is too fond of personal comfort to do your job properly. No doubt you all think that you know better than to follow the ruling Lord’s orders. I consider that to be mutiny. If there is a repeat of this behaviour, executions will follow.” I exhibited a controlled anger as I spoke, and it was for real. If they had obeyed the routines, then the pirate would have been caught and would be languishing in our cells, the castle would not be filled with refugees, and I would have a proper bed to sleep in.

 

 “Any warrior who cannot stomach the abandoning of the effete lifestyle you have all enjoyed for far too long is welcome to sail; there is no place for you in Middle-earth. We are approaching dark times. The peace loving races in Middle-earth will be in peril as the evil one extends his power, and extend it he will. The oppression of the races of men, dwarves and hobbits is also our oppression. Sauron will not respect differences; he will try to overrule all of us. He will become powerful again, but he is not unbeatable, so long as we all come together with the common goal of defeating him. Many of us will not survive, and there will be very few places of safety in Middle-earth, but even they will be found out in the end, if we do not defend the right to a peaceful existence for everyone. We will survive the dark times ahead because we will be prepared, and those who fall will know in their hearts they gave their all to ensure the safety of those they fought for.” Now it was time to build the warriors up and make them feel good.

 

“It will take much hard work, but you are all capable of it. I will turn you into a formidable fighting force, and one day Lord Círdan and King Oropher’s warrior army will march out in all their glory and know in their hearts that they are unbeatable. The elven army of Mithlond will be a force to be reckoned with, and the hearts of those who oppose us will falter and be filled with dread when they see us approaching. They will seek to hide and run back to whence they came. Let not the deeds of the past hold us back. We will fight with pride alongside the armies of Lothlórien, Mirkwood and Imladris, and we will be victorious!” My voice was raised at the end of the speech, and I let my face take on the slightly manic expression that warriors so love when their leaders are urging them onto better things. I know how to end a speech, and as if to confirm it there were hearty cheers from the warriors.

 

Let’s see if their enthusiasm extends to the twenty mile run I plan on making them do when they have put their full packs on. Of course, I will lead by example; I am Oropher, I am well capable of it.

 

 

 

 

 

**Part 151 – Cheeky Jeli and Mélawen.**

 

 

I completed the twenty mile run with ease, as a fully fit elf should. My warriors completed it also, but were out of breath and lagging behind at the end. I ordered them to go for breakfast and then report to Glorfindel for sparring exercises. After lunch they were to go to Melpomaen for the delights he has planned in the afternoon. Neither will go easy on them, and quite right too. Every morning, from now on, will start with a twenty mile run. I will be running with them, as a good Captain should. It was a surprise to the warriors that I was able to run faster than them, and I expect it will put a stop to their private taunts of me being half elleth because I have given birth.

 

Glorfindel has worked out a program of sparring and stamina building. Melpomaen has devised a program of endurance training and team building exercises. Both of them will be hard on the warriors until they start showing results. I will be teaching battle strategy and hand to hand combat. It would not surprise me if quite a few of the warriors drop out. If that happens there are plenty of elves in the town who would aspire to join their ranks, now that I have persuaded Círdan to remove the condition that all warriors must hold titles. It was a silly rule and bound to fail the realm in the end. In days of old, the warriors had to buy their weapons and their uniforms, plus maintain an outward lifestyle befitting their status. They were richly rewarded, but their initial and continuing outlay was considerable, thus encouraging a wealthy elite who closed ranks to those less well off than them. All that has been discontinued now; in promoting an egalitarian society it makes sense to encourage the less wealthy by loaning them the amount needed. Warriors are paid extremely well, it would take the average scribe five years to earn as much as they do in a year, and so they can afford to pay back the loan rather than us give it to them. To further promote equality, all new warriors will be required to take on the loan to help start up their lifestyle and buy the necessary equipment, regardless of how well off they are, so that there is no two tier system where those who need the financial aid are discriminated against.

 

“So how did it go?” Círdan asked as I slid into the bath he filled for me. The apricot and almond oil floated in rainbow pools across the water's surface.

 

“They are out of condition. They will have to train hard, but they should manage in the end.”

 

“I bet they had no idea what hit them,” Círdan said as he entered the bath beside me. “It is good to have you back by my side, Meleth.” He kissed me and pulled me closer. I yawned, having had only three hours sleep before getting up to give my speech, and that was interrupted when Cireolas’ teddy, ‘had a nightmare’. “Back to bed for you when we are dry.”

 

“I will be fine. You will do anything to get me into bed.”

 

“Too right.” My only one stroked my lower belly with the tips of his fingers causing a million butterflies to shiver through me. “Although, in here will do.”

 

My husband is such an animal. I am so well fucked that I can hardly sit down. I was too tired to have him in return, but tonight I won’t be. We are holding court this afternoon, and whilst we sit on our thrones I will be thinking how fortunate I am for such a deep cushion on my throne.

 

We rose from our bath and dried off. The morning was free to do as we pleased, so we chose to visit our elflings in the schoolroom before going to see how Merilnis was doing.

 

“Hello, Adas.” Jeli grinned at us. “Look at these shiny beads.” She lay on her back in the baby stimulation area with little Mélawen lying beside her. “Look at Mélawen; she has a teddy on her jumper and so do I.”

 

All my elflings find Mélawen fascinating. She can talk nearly as well as Jeli can. Some reborn babies can hardly talk at all and others are highly fluent as soon as they are born. There are degrees of speech ability for all reborn babies, but all are able to say something and that is how we tell them apart from new born babies, who can say nothing. “Hello, Unca Erruss,” she said brightly, like Cireolas she finds my name difficult to pronounce. “Look, I got ribbon in my hair and it come out.” She handed the small red ribbon to me.

 

“I will tie it around your wrist so you do not lose it.” She held her arm up.

 

“Thank you. Look lots of things hanging from top.”

 

The baby stimulation area is like the one in Mirkwood that Thranduil had built, he is an advocate of education through play. Strings of large beads and various objects hang from the canopy and can be touched by the baby so they can explore shapes, sounds and textures. Most of the hanging toys rattle or squeak, and all feel interesting to touch if one is a baby.

 

“Where is your nana, little one?” I asked Mélawen, as she whacked a hanging teddy with her fist.

 

“I think she sailed,” Mélawen replied brightly. “Today I upset because I not like porridge. It taste pooey, and Nana said I make her sail with screaming.”

 

“I very much think she has not sailed at all. I am sure she will be back soon.”

 

“I said Mélawen could live with us if her nana has sailed,” Jeli informed me. “She can sleep in my bed with me.”

 

“Your nana and ada have gone out to dinner in the town to celebrate his promotion,” Orophin said to Mélawen, as he stood beside me. “They will collect you later on. Your nana has already told you this.”

 

“Did she?” Mélawen asked, looking innocent. She turned to Jeli. “It was worth a try.”

 

“Look Ada,” Cireolas shouted from across the room. “Look I made statue.”

 

“See you later,” I said to Mélawen and Jeli. “Be good and stop planning things.”

 

“We are girls, we have to plan things. Don’t we, Mélawen?” Jeli said with a cheeky smile.

 

“Yes,” Mélawen replied with a giggle.

 

 


	52. Part 152 – Surrounded by Great Works of Art. Part 153 – Whipping Círdan. Part 154 – Sex With Círdan – We Pick the Unlikeliest of Places!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cireolas and Ereodan have works of art to show their adas. Ereolas takes advantage of the healing block being deserted. Unable to visit Merilnis in the healing block, he looks for other ways to pass his time.

 

**Part 152 – Surrounded by Great Works of Art.**

  
  


I left Jeli and her little friend, baby Mélawen, and went to see Cireolas.

 

Círdan was looking at a small model of a dog that our eldest ion had made. “Ada, I made this myself,” Cireolas told me happily. “I made it all by myself with a little bit of help.”

 

It really did look like a dog. There was no extra fine detail or anything like that but I could tell what it was meant to be. “I am so proud of you.” I put my arm around Cireolas, who was beaming fit to burst. “You must be very clever to make a dog like that. Well done.”

 

“It dry out and then put in fire to bake.” Cireolas pointed to a small kiln at the other end of the stone table.

 

“What do we call the special oven we put the clay in?” One of the teachers smiled at Cireolas encouragingly.

 

“It is kiln,” Cireolas replied. He was so happy, and it was good to see him like it. Too often one of the twins will make a thoughtless remark, but he just shrugs it off and carries on. He might not be able to speak as well as them, but he isn’t far behind, and what is more he can make a sculpture that actually looks like it is supposed to. Neither Jeli nor Ereodan have the fine motor control that allows them to do such a thing.

 

“When it is completely finished we will put it on display in the formal living room so that official visitors can see it,” Círdan said. “We will have a little plaque with your name on it, so everyone will know you made it. I should think that all the elves in Middle-earth will get to hear about it and they will be very impressed.”

 

Cireolas was positively jumping for joy. “I think that every elf in Middle-earth will want to come and see it,” I said to my little ion. “We will have queues of them all the way around the castle.”

 

“I make one for you and Ada,” Cireolas gave us both a huge smile.

 

“We would love one.” I gave him a kiss. “Thank you very much.”

 

“I cannot wait to see it.” Círdan gave Cireolas the biggest of hugs. He was so overjoyed that we thought he was talented. Praise is the simplest thing to reinforce self esteem. Cireolas is much more confident now and his behaviour seems to have evened out somewhat since we started concentrating on his positive aspects and ignoring his negative behaviour.

 

“Ada, I have painted another masterpiece,” Ereodan called out. "If you hurry you can be the first to see it."

 

“We will see you later on,” I said to Cireolas who gave us another huge grin and waved, even though we were still standing there.

 

We walked over to where Ereodan was painting. He sat on his teacher’s knees and she helped him clean the brush after each colour. “Look, I have painted Beren and Luthien meeting for the same time. It is an absolute masterpiece.”

 

Ereodan’s teacher smirked and I tried to keep a straight face. Círdan coughed so he could be polite and look away. The painting had a green strip at the bottom and a blue strip at the top. Under that was a yellow ball with lines coming from it. There were brown lines at each side with dark green tops, which were trees, and in the centre were two stick figures with round heads and yellow hair reaching the ground. For a baby it was quite advanced.

 

“I think you will agree that I am incredibly talented. This painting emulates the Sindarin School, which enjoyed a continuing popularity in the Second Age, and I think that I have more than caught the essence of the style.” I saw Círdan biting his lower lip as he tried to stop himself from laughing. “I was thinking. Now you have seen my painting ability, why don’t you let me design the ceilings of the ruined apartments?” Ereodan looked at us expectantly.

 

I do not know how I kept a straight face. “That is a very generous offer. Thank you. However, you have years of growing up to do and we wouldn’t want you to miss out. It can take years to paint something like that.”

 

“I really do not mind,” Ereodan said as he dunked his brush in a jam jar full of water. “I live for painting.” How like the young Legolas he seemed, who refused to take a lover on his begetting day because he was 'married to his art', he barely touches a paintbrush now.

 

“Well you can do some more living before you give it all up for art,” Círdan said. “We would not want you to miss out.”

 

“I don’t mind. All the great artists have suffered for their art and I will be no exception.”

 

“Well that is settled then,” I told our little ion. “When you are older I expect you will want to start off by painting your own bedroom, and then you can graduate to larger projects.”

 

“Ada, you are patronising me,” the little squirt said.

 

“Do not be rude to your Ada,” Círdan said. “Now apologise.”

 

“I cannot. I spoke from the heart and my conscience forbids me because it would not be true.” Ereodan sighed dramatically.

 

“Right,” I said, as if to Círdan. “Later on this evening we will take Jeli and Cireolas off to the fair in the town and leave Ereodan here so that he can pursue his art. I would not want him to be anything less than happy.”

 

“That’s not fair,” Ereodan said quickly. His lower lip stuck out.

 

“Of course it is fair,” Círdan replied. “If you cannot act like an elfling then we must treat you as the poor suffering artist you obviously are. Come along Ereolas. Let us leave the supremely talented one to his work. Perhaps we can find his a damp little garret for him to live in?” I said nothing. What can one answer to wit like that?

 

We waved goodbye to the elflings, including Ereodan who was about to scream his lungs out, and went outside.

 

“One gold piece he wants to apologise,” Círdan said to me.

 

“I am not betting on a certainty,” I laughed. “Of course he will, the mercenary little git loves the town fair.”

 

We walked out of the castle and into the front gardens. Círdan put his arm around me and kissed my cheek. “This way. We need to see how Merilnis is.”

 

“Lead the way, handsome.”

 

“You know it,” he replied looking as cocky as ever. How I didn't drag him behind a tree I do not know!

 

 

 

  **Title: Ereolas: Oropher Unbound! - Part 153 – Whipping Círdan**

  


Círdan and I arrived in the healing rooms to see Merilnis. Thranduil lay asleep on a sofa by the open fire, a small smile on his face. I remember when he was an elfling and used to climb in my bed during the night. He would lie as if he had not a care in the world, his lips curved slightly upwards.

                     

“Why do you smile when you are asleep?” I asked him as I braided his hair. He sat on my lap and looked in the small hand mirror to check my progress and make faces at himself.

 

“I smile because I am in bed with my ada,” he replied. “I can have a cuddle whenever I want and you don’t have to go off and do things.”

 

“Ah! I see,” I grinned. “You can have me all to yourself.”

 

“Yes.” He gave me a silly grin, waggled his head from side to side and poked his tongue out at me.

 

“You are a cheeky one,” I blew a huge raspberry on his neck, which made him screech with laughter.

 

They were happy days and the smallest of gestures can bring a fond remembrance. I opened door to Merilnis’ room and saw Mel, Elrond and Galadriel inside so I quickly shut it again. No doubt they were delivering healing energy and it would not be a good idea to interrupt them. There were no healers around and a quick and careful search of the block proved that the place was deserted. The injured from the battle between Sauron and Mel had been cured, and no healers seemed to be in attendance. Maglor was not in his room either; no doubt he was somewhere with Erestor.

 

“In here,” I said to Círdan, pushing him into a room.

 

“What are you doing?” Círdan seemed momentarily confused.

 

I shut the door and leaned the back of a chair against the door handle. “Now we cannot be disturbed. Get your clothes off.”

 

“But we are in the healing rooms,” Círdan protested, seemingly shocked at my order.

 

I ignored him and walked to the glass cabinet and pulled open a door. “Interesting.”

 

“Just what do you think you are doing?” Círdan said urgently. “For Valar’s sake, we are in the healing rooms.”

 

“Who owns the healing rooms?”

 

“Well, we do, of course.”

 

“Get undressed and lay on the bed.” My back was turned as I surveyed the contents of the cabinet. “I will not tell you again.”

 

“This is crazy,” Círdan whined as he took his clothing off. I could see his reflection in the glass. “I just know we will get caught. What are you doing in that cabinet?”

 

I took a bandage and made my way over to the bed where Círdan lay. His hair fanned out in loose tresses. It was just below shoulder length having grown several inches since I hacked it off during a row over a year before. Still, he looked divine and I desired him, plus it was my turn and I wanted my own way.

 

“Give me your hands.” Círdan relaxed and we exchanged a look of complete knowing and trust. He offered me his hands and I wrapped the bandage around his wrists and tied in-between them so he could not wriggle out of the binding. There was still some length trailing. “Turn over.” Muffy lay on his front and held his wrists above his head so that I could tie them to one of the vertical bars on the headboard. “Guess what I am going to do now?” I teased softly.

 

Muffy could hardly speak. Illicit sex in places he considers are off limits, especially if he is unable to escape and is bound, turns him on to the point of incomprehensibility. His breathing was excited and rapid, and we hadn’t even started yet. I smacked his arse cheek and demanded that he answer. “You are going to fuck me, and quickly so we don’t get caught,” he replied hastily.

 

“Wrong.” I took the whip from my belt and ran it along his spine, enjoying his shudder.

 

“Oropher!” he said in a panicked voice. “Let’s use the playroom instead of here.” I dropped the whip beside his body and walked to the cabinet again. “What are you doing?”

 

I took two more bandages and bound his feet to opposite sides of the bed. “You might as well accept it. It is going to happen anyway. Perhaps you would like to use the safe word?” I was teasing Muffy because we do not have a safe word; he knew I was deliberately referring to when he put a pint of oil up my arse and laughingly refused to stop, in spite of me asking him to, because we had not agreed a word to signal that I wanted it to stop.

 

“So this is payback?” Círdan's voice unhappy and resigned.

 

“Not at all, my love. I would not do that to you. Think of it as a scenario where you are no longer in control.” Círdan loves being in control, he lives for it. I took all my clothing off but kept my tight leather leggings and thigh high mithril studded boots on. I knew Muffy would find it an incredible turn on. It was one of his favourite memories of me when I was King Oropher.

 

“When we get back, it is the playroom for you,” Círdan warned, as if in his wildest dreams I would consider it a punishment.

 

“Gladly, Meleth.” I breathed in his ear and made him shiver. My tongue made a barely imperceptible sweep along his lobe and I gently breathed out at the same time. Círdan groaned and closed his eyes. “Wait there and do not speak.”

 

In the cabinet I looked for something I could use as a phallus. I found healing lotion, meant for large areas judging by the fluidity of it, needles for stitching, blades, dishes and other things, but nothing that I could use for sex. I took some of the items and put them on the bedside table, which was too high up for Círdan to see properly.

 

“What are you up to?” He sounded nervous.

 

“I did tell you not to speak. What do we do to disobedient elves?"

 

“We have sex with them really fast and then we go back to our rooms,” Círdan offered unsuccessfully.

 

“You know that isn’t so.” I picked up the whip and stroked it along his back, laughing softly. Then I cracked the whip in the air. Círdan jumped. I always do that and he falls for it every time. I then did another crack of the whip in the air before gently stroked Muffy’s clenched buttocks with the very end of the leather.

 

Círdan sighed as if he thought I would not do anything. It was unusual for me not to lash him on the second go.

 

There was a knock at the door. “Are you all right in there? I heard a noise.”

 

I recognised the voice, so I took the chair away and opened the door.

 

 

 

**Part 154 – Sex With Círdan – We Pick the Unlikeliest of Places!**  


 

Thranduil stood looking at me through the open door, his jaw gaping in surprise and his face turning red. No doubt he was wondering what his ada was doing in black skin tight leather leggings and mithril studded thigh-high boots, whilst holding a leather whip.

 

“What do you want? I am about to whip Círdan and then have sex with him.” In the background I heard Círdan groan with embarrassment.

 

“I thought I heard something and went to investigate. Are you allowed to have sex here, Ada? It is the healing block after all.”

 

“Who is going to stop me?”

 

“Well not me. The healers will not like it though.”

 

“Then we had better not tell them.” I grinned. “Be a good ion and deter anyone else from interrupting us.”

 

“Well, okay then,” Thranduil said uncertainly. “Lucky Saelir doesn’t work here. He wouldn’t care who you are; you just wouldn’t be allowed to do it.” I sensed a slight disapproval from him.

 

“Well he isn’t here, is he? Must go now, or else Círdan will get cold.”

 

I promised to visit Merilnis when we had finished and shut the door, replacing the chair under the door handle.

 

“I am so embarrassed,” Círdan barked at me. “Release me. I am not turned on anymore. You have killed it.”

 

“Absolutely not,” I replied as if shocked. Sitting down beside my only one, I began rubbing his back and talking softly to him. Soon he would relax again and be in the palm of my hand. “I love you so much,” I told him as I stroked along his spine. “How can I resist you?”

 

I felt Muffy’s body relax and his breathing evened. “Do whatever you want,” he said softly with his eyes shut.

 

The whip stroked across Círdan’s body in increasing firm lashes. His eyes remained shut and all I was granted was the slight, sharp inhalation of breath as the sting hit his senses. I did not go too roughly as I am capable of severely hurting or even killing with this whip and it was not meant to be like that at all. There was a line of red, raised stripes running across his back, ass and upper legs. My balls tightened and I was rock hard.

 

“You can breathe now.” I kissed the welts on his shoulders. He hissed at the sensitivity. Encouraged by this I ran my fingertips lightly over his back, watching him squirm as he tried to escape my maddeningly light touch. “When we get back to our rooms you can admire your stripes.” I gave my only one a lust filled smile.

 

“Do you know what I like most about it?” Círdan said lazily as he shifted slightly. “I know what you have done to me and you do too, but nobody else does. When I sit in on the throne with my clothing hiding what you have done to me, and both of us appearing as paragons of virtue, I know what we really are.”

 

“And what are we, Meleth?” I reached for a needle on the bedside table.

 

“We are the same as everyone else. What was that?” he tensed and then relaxed.

 

“It is the next stage.” I threaded another needle through his skin and out the other side so that both ends protruded. I carried on piercing the whole length of his back on one side before doing the same to the other. Then I took a dark red ribbon from my hair and wound it around the needles, so that it looked like a corset had been laced up. “We will keep the needles in. I want you to see it before I remove it all and there is no mirror in here.”

 

I had more things planned for Muffy, but I did not think he could have take everything with the needles staying in his back, and I knew that I could not resist his body any longer. The slippery contents of the healing lotion spread over my fingers and I pushed two fingers into my love. He was relaxed and it was too much for me to bear. Quickly, I wiped my hands on the bed sheet and removed the rest of my clothing. The glide in was smooth and Círdan groaned with happiness. He was so relaxed I did not have to hold back. In and out I thrust with wild abandon, driving him hard into the bed. My hand reached around to his arousal and I pumped hard, probably chaffing his skin as I did so. I was too far gone to be that cautious. Círdan grunted with each push; in the back of my mind I fleetingly thought that maybe I should be more careful.

 

We came together, and I slumped down on Muffy’s back thoroughly sated. The needles pricked my skin and so I got up almost immediately; Círdan did not seem to notice any discomfort I must have caused him by doing that. Moving down to the end of the bed, I released his feet and then scooted up the other end to release his arms. He breathed deeply, not attempting to move, before turning his head and smiling; words were not necessary.

 

It occurred to me that the room needed some tidying. The remaining needles and other items were placed back in the cabinet and the glass door closed. Círdan stood and held his shirt out to me, so I could help him put it back on. He must have felt every move with the needles still in his back. I dressed after him as he watched admiringly.

 

The bed covers were straightened and the room looked tidy. The chair was removed from under the door handle and I opened it.

 

Attached to the door was a big piece of paper which read 'Do not disturb. We are having a whippingly good time, love Ereolas and Círdan'. There was a line of x’s underneath.

 

“Bloody Thranduil,” Círdan said as I laughed.

 

We walked out and saw Thranduil sitting on the sofa. Galadriel, Elrond and Mel were still in with Merilnis. My ion gave us the widest grin. “All shagged out, are you, Círdan?” He laughed heartily.

 

“Bugger off.”

 

 “Come on, Meleth.” I pulled Círdan with me. Looking back I gave my ion a cheeky grin.

 

Thranduil smiled enigmatically, but I ignored it. Surely he would have said something if anyone had heard. Wouldn’t he?

 

 


	53. Part 155 – How Many Times a Day Does a Normal, Healthy Elf have sex?  Part 156 – Sparring in the Nude.  Part 157 – A Sneak Attack? That’s not Polite!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The elves discuss how many times a day they have sex - Elrond and Thranduil are not impressed. Ereolas and Círdan visit Merilnis and then decide to spar in the nude. Ereolas give the warriors homework and takes Cireolas out to play.

 

 

**Part 155 – How Many Times a Day Does a Normal, Healthy Elf have sex?**

  

We arrived back at our rooms. I helped Círdan off with his clothing and showed him the corset effect of the ribbons wound around the needles in his skin. The whip marks were barely visible.

 

 “We should get the court artist to make a painting of this.” Círdan stood in front of the mirror looking over his shoulder, trying to get a better view. I held another mirror behind him. "He should definitely do one."

 

“Do you think it wise?”

 

“Probably not. You could do a sketch instead.”

 

I am a passable artist, not as talented as Legolas or the court artist but definitely more so than my ion, Ereodan. Half an hour later, Círdan held a quick sketch of his beribboned back. Afterwards, I gently unwound the ribbons and pulled the needles out of his skin. Then I wiped his back with a pad of cotton soaked in Miruvor.

 

“In a couple of hours you will not be able to see the marks.” Miruvor is a reviving drink with many healing properties, which can be also used to clean and heal wounds. I lived on the stuff when I was an elfling because of how weak my first body was.

 

“That has left me quite drained.” Círdan yawned, so I offered him a small wineglass of Miruvor to drink. I imagined that the warriors would also be in need of the elixir after Mel and Glorfindel had finished with them. It made me smile as I visualised their pain; it would be fun watching them limp into dinner.

 

Círdan stood up. “Come on. Off to bed for an hour and then we will go to lunch.”

 

I took my clothing off and climbed into the bed Círdan had brought from the ship. Our waterlogged bedroom mattress still hung from the ship mast. The dripping water had ceased, so it was drying out well. The bedroom was also drying out slowly. Every morning we took the boards from where the windows once were so that it could dry out further. I hated going in there. The decoration and paintings in our one hundred foot square room were destroyed, including the painting of Círdan that I used to look at when alone and needing sex. Every time I went in there my anger rose against the warriors who could have prevented this mess if they had done their jobs properly. I hoped that they were crawling with exhaustion at having to put in a proper day’s training.

 

I lay down on my side of the bed and Círdan snuggled up behind me. “Close your eyes, Meleth,” he said softly, and that is all I remember.

 

We collected the elflings from the playrooms and took them to lunch. Mélawen came with us because Erviniae and Silimaurë were not back; however, Orophin said that he had not expected them to be. Four baby elflings were a bit too much for us and so we were glad their nannies were with us. Mélawen was given her bottle of milk, while our babies disappeared under my robe for their drink. Cireolas ate boiled eggs with toast fingers and pronounced it the best meal in the world. I am glad he likes it as we are still eating food from the stores. Círdan and I had jacket potatoes with cheese and onion. The twins had semolina after their drink; they pulled the usual faces but I ignored them. After lunch they were sleepy, so their nannies took them to the playrooms for a nap in the quiet area, which has a wall to wall frame on the floor covered with a large mattress. Elflings lay on it, any way they like, and a favourite toy is tucked in with them under a soft covering blanket. They are left like that until they wake up.

 

Thranduil and Elrond sat on the other side of our table.

 

“Pray tell me why there are twenty-four needles missing from the cabinet in the bedroom you used, and why there are three bandages in the waste bin.” Elrond said, a hint of disapproval emanating from his raised eyebrows.

 

“Well,” I began. Círdan shook his head. He knew he was going to be embarrassed again. “When we could not see Merilnis this morning, we went to see if any of the refugees were still there, so we could visit them. The bedrooms were empty, so I pushed Círdan into one and tied him to the bed. We had the most delightful time. Really you should try it.”

 

“I see.” Elrond was not amused. “May I have the needles back so they can be sterilised?”

 

“They are beside our bed. I will drop them down when I next visit Merilnis.”

 

“This is purely an observation, but you two are always having sex.” Elrond looked at the jacket potato in front of him before directing his attention to me and then sliding his gaze over to Círdan. “How do you do it? Any other elf would be worn out and on their knees with exhaustion.”

 

Círdan and I looked at one another. It had never occurred to us that we might be having sex more than most elves. “We only have sex about three times a day.”

 

“Three times a day?!?” Elrond exclaimed loudly. “Three times a day?”

 

“We heard you first time; in fact the whole room heard you.” Círdan looked somewhat mystified at Elrond's outburst. “What is your point?”

 

“What are you doing, making up for lost time?” Something told me that Elrond probably did not get as much bed play as we did.

 

“Don’t most elves have sex frequently?” I asked, trying hard to appear innocent. “I think that those who remain intimate will always be so.”

 

“I only have sex once a day.” Thranduil watched his lunch being set before him.

 

“Me too,” Elrond agreed. “When I am in Imladris I do, anyway.”

 

“Well you would be married to ellith,” I smirked. “Although, in my first life, Alatáriël and I had it much more often.”

 

“But you detested one another.” Thranduil cut into his cheese filled jacket potato.

 

“We still needed sex, whether we liked one another or not.”

 

Erestor and Legolas joined us at the table.

 

“I hear you have been doing naughty things in one of the healing rooms.” Erestor grinned.

 

“We heard you both, to be exact.” Legolas smiled as if he knew something we did not. “Not very quiet are you?”

 

“How did you hear?”

 

“We walked past to collect some things for Maglor, he is moving into the castle, and we heard the whip crack. We took no notice and carried on, but after that we heard you telling Thranduil that you were about to whip Círdan and have sex with him.” Erestor was filled with glee as he told me.

 

“Apparently they have sex three times a day.” Elrond had a slight hint of disapproval in his voice.

 

“So do we,” Erestor said quickly. “Nothing wrong in that. Healthy body, healthy mind.”

 

Legolas looked at Elrond as if he might be slightly mad. “Do you think that three times a day is enough, or should we do it more?” He was teasing but Thranduil and Elrond looked decidedly uncomfortable.

 

“They only get it once a day,” I said in a loud whisper. Círdan grinned and told me to stop being naughty.

 

“Once a day is enough when one is with an elleth,” Thranduil declared. “I am left totally satisfied.”

 

“Yes, I am too.” Elrond smirked before spearing a lump of potato with his fork.

 

“Bullshit,” Erestor laughed. “You probably have to spend ages getting the scene just right and doing a thousand other things that ellith demand before they will open their legs. We just drop our leggings and fuck.”

 

Legolas smiled. I nodded in agreement, and Círdan sighed. He is a bit of a prude when it comes to discussing bedroom habits with others.

 

“Perhaps that is what makes it a more fulfilling experience,” Thranduil replied. “Anyone can fuck, but to have sex with an elleth you have to make love.”

 

“No you don’t.” Legolas seemed surprised. “That is an excuse and you know it. We make love every time. Isn't that right Erestor?”

 

There is something totally yucky about hearing one’s parents discussing sex. Erestor said that he would not dream of having sex with Legolas unless they were making love at the same time. The conversation had gone far enough.

 

I decided to cut the subject short. “It is all about making time. That is what Círdan and I do. We can spend more time together that way.” I looked at Elrond and Thranduil. “You probably do not delegate enough and have far more to do, so time constraints mean that you do not get the opportunity to have sex as often as we do. You are probably more tired as well.”

 

There it is. I am the one skilled in diplomacy and all were agreeable to what I said. What had started because of mild jealousy and annoyance had ended with understanding. Elrond said that he ran the realm and was a healer, but Celebrían did not seem to mind the sparseness of their sex life. Círdan pointed out that it was hardly sparse if he had sex everyday. Elrond seemed happy with this.

 

Thranduil spends a lot of time holding court; even the lowest elf can go before him and demand justice. We have elves in Mithlond who are trained to sort problems and only the most serious cases are brought before Círdan and myself; therefore we have more time. My ion is not willing to forego this practice, so he will not have as much opportunity for spontaneity.

 

“Well, we have to hold court now,” Círdan said, standing up and pushing his chair away. “Very little on this afternoon, so we shouldn’t be long.” I stood up to join him.

 

“I have to get back to Merilnis,” Elrond groaned. “Galadriel is eating her lunch in the healing rooms. I couldn’t wait to get away from her. All she talks about is her forthcoming marriage to Saelbeth and how wonderful he is.”

 

Thranduil looked at us all and grinned. “I wonder how many times a day they get sex?”

 

Probably not as much as me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Part 156 – Sparring in the Nude.**

  

The afternoon court session consisted of an announcement that the Flood Defence committee was recruiting, and that any interested elves with the necessary qualifications were invited to apply, and a report on how much the rebuilding of the curtain wall and refurbishments of the castle apartments would cost. Finally, a fully detailed and lengthy report was presented, analysing the battle; costing; the welfare of the pirates in the cells; remaining quantities of stored foods; warrior retraining; and an analysis of research results measuring the popularity of absolutist rule in Mithlond and Lindon. Happily, the opinion of the masses is that Círdan and I are the bee’s knees when it comes to ruling a realm.

 

I chatted for a while with the Lady Aglarien and her husband, Lord Angaráto. Aglarien is incredibly excited that I have decided to give her much larger apartments; however, Angaráto asked that they not face the sea full on because of the unfortunate damage those apartments seem to suffer from time to time. I suggested a side apartment where they have a view of the sea and also of the gardens. They seemed happy with that. The apartments will be less prone to damage and are larger than the ones completely facing the gardens.

 

Círdan and I left to visit the healing block. Hopefully, Merilnis would be able to see us. We passed the Lady Erviniae and her husband, Lord Silimaurë, in the gardens and both were quite drunk.

 

“Perhaps it would be a good idea if we looked after little Mélawen overnight.” Círdan said to them.

 

“Who?” Erviniae said blinking. “Oh! Mélawen.” She descended into a fit of giggles and fell against her husband who could not stop laughing either, he also looked rather unsteady. “Silimaurë has a new job,” Erviniae said to me. “Old Kingy Wingy Oropher gave it to him. I have always liked Oropher, he is a nice elf.”  Then she had a look of realisation. “Oh look! That’s you!” She cackled with laughter. When she had calmed down a bit she told Silimaurë that she wanted sex.

 

Silimaurë was all over her. Círdan ordered them to go to their rooms because there were elflings about. “You will be interviewing elves who are interested in joining the Flood Defence Committee, tomorrow at nine o’clock in the morning,” I said pleasantly to Silimaurë. “Enjoy the rest of your day.”

 

They went off, still giggling and falling all over the place. Círdan turned to me. “There are no interviews tomorrow morning.”

 

“Oh dear! Silly me. Did I get the date wrong?”

 

“I will be amusing to see Silimaurë with a hangover trying to find the interview room.” Círdan's smile widened. "I might get up early just to see what he does."

 

I love playing practical jokes. I know that the Lady Erviniae will cack herself with laughter when her husband goes back to their rooms and tells her that there are no interviews and he might have been the victim of a joke.

 

We arrived at the healing block and, amazingly, we were able to visit Merilnis.

 

“Hello Grand Nana.” I kissed her cheek.

 

Merilnis was pleased to see us and showed me her fingers. They have all but grown back. The nails still, but that is all she needs to be as she once was. “Perhaps you could be released and just go back for healing?” I suggested.

 

“I am too tired after healing, so it is better I stay here,” Merilnis replied. I know how she feels; I found being healed very tiring as well. “I hear you had a BDSM session in one of the healing rooms?”

 

“It was more S&M than BDSM,” I replied.

 

Círdan went red. “Is this going to be all over the bloody realm?” he hissed.

 

Merilnis looked innocent. “If you were not so noisy then it might have escaped half of Mithlond’s attention. Even I heard the whip cracking, and I was half asleep. Still, it broke up a rather boring day. So, who was the master and who was the victim?”

 

“Merilnis!” Círdan went an even deeper shade of red

 

Merilnis shrugged. “I have too much time and too little to do.”

 

We were rescued by Elrond and Galadriel, who came in for the next session of healing. Galadriel told me that she found the whip noises most disconcerting, and Merilnis said she now knew the answer to her question. She is a minx; she sat in the bed looking like the cat who had licked the cream. I kissed her goodbye, and so did Círdan, before leaving.

 

“Is there any bloody elf in this realm who doesn’t know that you whipped me?” Círdan sulked.

 

“Gossip does seem to spread rather quickly here, doesn’t it?”

 

“Let’s make it an offence punishable by execution.”

 

“What gossip in general or gossip about us?”

 

“Gossip about us.”

 

“Right. If we do then we stand to lose all the good favour we have accumulated recently.”

 

“So?”

 

“It is a bad idea and you know it. The gossip will pass, Meleth.” I took his hand. “In the meantime, come with me.  A sparring session will work off some of your anger.”

 

We went to the sparring grounds. We passed Mel, who had the warriors doing endless sit ups, push ups and other exercises; they looked most unhappy. Every time one of them faltered, Mel slammed a riding crop over their back. We removed our clothing and took our daggers; this would be a wrestling with knives match.

 

We circled one another. Círdan leapt forward and I sidestepped. So it went on for a good half hour. I became aware that Mel had allowed the warriors to watch, and there were cries of support for both Círdan and myself. I found out later than Mel had taken bets as to who would win.

 

The sweat poured off me. Círdan looked so damnably sexy, armed with two knives and wearing nothing but his skin. The sweat ran in thin streams down his chest. We slid against one another when we made contact, our wet bodies pushing against one another before breaking away, and always avoiding the knives we held. At one point we ended up on the floor wrestling without them. Círdan can give as good as he receives, but, by pure luck, I was able to keep him pinioned on the floor for a count of three. I relaxed because I was the winner. He took advantage by pushing me down against the floor before laying on top of me.

 

“You win, this time,” he said, grinning. He stood, and pulled me up by my arm. “Off to the showers.”

 

As we left, Mel told the warriors that one day they might be as good as Círdan and me.

 

That made me feel pretty good!

 

 

 

 

**Part 157 – A Sneak Attack? That’s not Polite!**

  

During the afternoon I took the warriors for their battle strategy session and made them work together on planning theoretical raids into enemy territory. They failed miserably.

 

“It is because you do not think as a unit,” I told them. “You should not be thinking about individuals but about the team as a whole. Let each elf who is best suited to a task do that; it makes sense. For example, Helyanwë is extremely good at creeping up on the enemy and slitting their throats, so utilised it. I do not want to see an elf assigned to an area where they do not excel because none of you have bothered to plan properly.”

 

The plan of the enemy encampment was on the wall. We stood looking at it and I pointed with my stick. “Why line up where the enemy can see you? Why not use the element of surprise and have a better chance of winning? Not all raids on the enemy require you to charge in yelling and announcing your presence.”

 

In the end I had to tell them what I would do, as all agreed that sneak attacks were not terribly polite. I reminded them that the Dark Lord Sauron would never do anything but a sneak attack, unless forced otherwise, and would laugh himself stupid if he had been privy to our conversation. Cireolas, who has never fought a battle in his life, could have done better. The problem is that over a thousand years has passed since they last fought a major battle, plus they all have big egos. I wonder why that is; it's not as if they do anything to merit such a position of over-confidence. To be sure, Mel and Fin will beat the warriors’ egos down to more manageable proportions in time, and I will ram battle strategy down their throats until they are heartily sick of it. Then they might be good enough to have a positive opinion about how good they are.

 

Before winding down the session I gave the warriors homework. They had to split into groups and plan a mock attack together. One of the warrior groups was labelled bad men; others were labelled orcs, and so on. All were baddies - no group was able to play as elven warriors, thus avoiding one-upmanship. They had to devise an attack on a heavily guarded visiting ruler of a distant realm, using a scenario of my choosing. The groups were required to visit the library and research battle tactics, using the ones they considered most appropriate for the group they were meant to represent, to devise a plan of action, which was to be presented the following day. When they questioned my rationale, I told them that to defeat the enemy meant that one had to anticipate what they would do, and so they would have to know them. The exercise would do just that. Before allowing them to leave, I told the warriors that any failure to do the homework, or any lateness, would be met with the whole of that group being flogged in front of the others. I know they think I am a bastard doing that, but every time I walk into my destroyed bedroom I feel vindicated.

 

Afterwards, I went to the elflings’ schoolroom. They were sitting quietly and listening to the old story of Lady Manners and her well brought up children. I thought Cireolas must have been badly behaved and raised an eyebrow at him; he sat beside Orophin in the naughty chair. Orophin quickly explained that Cireolas liked to sit there so he could see the illustrations while the books were being read.

 

Orophin had seen me addressing the warriors early in the morning. At the time, he was doing his required Lothlórien warriors’ workout before starting his schoolroom duties. He trains hard every day for three hours with a couple of other elves from Lothlórien, who are on a work exchange program here, and also with the official emissary who represents the interests of the woodland realm in the Mithlond court.

 

“I liked your speech.” Orophin grinned. “I doubt there is any question in their minds as to who is boss now.”

 

“I fear that they will not be able to complete the training. They are a bunch of little children.”

 

“Little children are able to play as a team,” Orophin laughed. “Your warriors can’t even do that.”

 

He was speaking the truth. I sighed because I was disheartened. “I have them doing homework in the library. The librarian will tell me who attended, and who did not.”

 

“They are stupid if they make the mistake of not following the instructions you have set them. I expect you will have a long list of warriors who thought the rules did not apply to them."

 

“I expect I will. Everything is a fight, isn’t it?”

 

The nannies took Ereodan, Jeli and Mélawen to the apartment to get them ready to go out. We were taking them to the town fair. So we did not have lots of changing to do with sleepy, worn out babies, they were to be bathed and put in their pyjamas before we left. Their coats would be over the top, so no one would be any the wiser. I held onto Cireolas and decided that as he had been so good I would take him to play on the swings for a while in the elflings' play park.

 

Cireolas loves the swings. After I had fixed the baby harness on him, I pushed him up high. He squealed with laughter and yelled for more. After pushing him for a while, I put him on the slide and then the roundabout. I love spending time alone with him, and he appreciates it so much. Afterwards, we went to the kitchen's candy shop where I bought Cireolas a small bag of fudge sticks for being a good boy.

 

We made our way back to the apartment and saw Erestor and Maglor walking away from the library as we were passing. “We going to town fair,” Cireolas told them. “I just been on swing and slide, and I got sweets. You want to see my Maglor doll?”

 

Maglor smiled and told Cireolas he would love to see his Maglor doll. “Does it look exactly like me?”

 

“Not really,” Cireolas replied. “It not smiling, and it look unhappy.”

 

“Ah well,” Maglor grinned. “Just like all the paintings then, eh?”

 

“I not sure. You show me painting.”

 

“When I see a painting with myself in it I will show you, little one.” Maglor patted Cireolas’ head.

 

“You come with me and Ada and see my dolls.” Cireolas grinned at Maglor and Erestor. “I show you all dolls.”

 

We all trooped up the staircases to the apartment. Maglor looked around at my ruined bedroom before following us into Cireolas’ room. “I would have thrashed the warriors to death for this. I shall keep this devastation in mind when acting as their leader. It will not be pleasant for them.” I was happy to hear that and hoped Maglor would be very hard on them indeed.

 

On the shelf sat Cireolas’ 'Fëanor and his family' collection of dolls. I put them all on the bed so Cireolas could them to Maglor.

 

“This is Maglor because he has a big jewel,” Cireolas picked it up and studied the doll. “This is second jewel because Ada Círdan threw first one in sea.”

 

“He thought Cireolas might swallow it,” I explained.

 

Maglor picked up the doll and smiled, “Who makes this doll? They can pay me for the privilege.”

 

Erestor grinned. “I am at present suing the Stiffy Toy Company for publishing my private sex manual. One more case against them will not hurt.”

 

 

 


	54. Part 158 – The Oath of Fëanor. Part 159 – The Family Night Out. Part 160 – Punishing The Warriors.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maglor tells the elflings about the oath of Fëanor. The whole family go to the fair. Three warriors did not go to the library...

    

 

 

 

  
  


**Part 158 – The Oath of Fëanor.**

 

 

 

“Hello,” Jeli's nanny brought her into Cireolas’ bedroom. “I have just had a bath. Look at my new bunny pyjamas. Unca Mel had them made for me.”

 

 

Erestor took my little iell from her nanny, who then left the room. “Are you going to the town fair in your jammies?”

 

 

“Yes.” Jeli kissed Erestor's cheek and flung her arms around his head, hugging him tight, and probably cutting off his breathing as well. “We are going to eat our dinner in town as well. It will make a change from the crap they serve here.” She said it so sweetly that I laughed.

 

 

“Should young princesses say that word?” Maglor asked.

 

 

“Ada Círdan took my titles away; apparently I was naughty. Until he gives them back I will say as many bad words as I like.” She looked at Maglor as if daring him to disagree.

 

 

Maglor took her from Erestor and held her at face level. “I have seen your eyes before. I saw them when I was young and in a different place and time. The line of Fëanor is strong within you. It is most odd but you feel even more Fëanorian than I.”

  

 

“Well, you know how it goes.” Jeli grinned cheekily. “I expect my adas were quite miffed because I looked like Grand Ada Erestor.” Erestor quickly stated that there was nothing at all wrong in looking like him.

 

 

Maglor shook his head. “No, it is almost as though your Ada Erestor looks like you, which defies all common sense. I wonder which noble Lady you were in your previous life.”

  

 

“I could have been anyone.” Jeli must have decided to change the subject. “Look what I can do.” She held her foot up to her mouth and sucked her toes. “If I did not have any thumbs I could suck my big toe instead.” I do not know if Jeli is still aware that she was Fëanor in her former life; since their presentation to the Valar neither twin has mentioned their previous existence. I did not like to ask, in case I stirred up memories which had been forgotten.

 

 

“You remind me of my ada,” Maglor grinned. “He used to do silly things like that when we were elflings. He made us laugh even when we didn't want to. He was the best ada anyone could have.”

 

 

“No he wasn’t. Ada Ereolas is the best ada anyone could ever have; he is the greatest ada anywhere and everywhere. Everyone in Middle-earth wants my ada to be their ada too, as he is so great at being an ada, so there!” She gave Maglor a cheeky grin and then she looked at me. “Isn’t that right, Ada?”

  

 

“Absolutely.” I smiled, brimming with happiness. “And you are my favourite iell.”

  

 

“I am your only iell.”

  

 

“If I had another iell you would still be my favourite.” I squeezed her tiny foot.

 

  

“What about Ada Círdan?” Cireolas asked her. “He is greatest ada as well.”

 

 

Jeli shook her head and told Cireolas not to be so silly. “Ada Círdan is not as good at being an ada. He doesn’t give me milk, and when there was a wicked Goblin under my bed Ada Ereolas killed it with his sword.”

  

 

“There was a goblin under your bed?” Cireolas looked wonderstruck.

  

 

“Yes, there was a hundred of them.”

 

  

“You told me there was only one,” I said. Jeli had the grace to blush.

  

 

“It sounded like a hundred.”

  

 

I remember it well. She was new born. There was a noise from the rooms below where a party was in progress. I tried telling her, but when Fëanor was alive elves used to believe that goblins could hide under elflings’ beds and take them away, never to be seen again. So I made out to kill it and stabbed at the empty air, making all the appropriate noises until it supposedly died.

  

 

“Ada,” Ereodan called out as he was carried into the room. “Look at my hair.” He waved to Erestor and Maglor and told them that his nanny had braided his hair in the style of a noble elf of Second Age Lindon. “I look bloody brilliant!” he said as his nanny handed him to me.

 

  

“I got prince braids,” Cireolas grinned. He put his thumb in his mouth and his arm around my back, snuggling his head against my side.

  

 

“I have Aunty Galadriel’s style of braids,” Jeli declared, not one to be outdone by her brothers. “She put them in for me earlier today, and she gave me the hair decorations.” She turned to Maglor. “I like Aunty Galadriel. She is big and she can bash orcs with her bare hands; she told me so.”

 

 

“So nothing has changed?” Maglor smiled.

  

 

“Grandnana Merilnis likes to bash orcs too. One day, when I am bigger, we are going orc bashing, and we are going to beat up a few wargs as well. I already asked, and Aunty and Grandnana said I can go with them.”

  

 

“I want to bash orcs too,” Ereodan said in a whiney voice. Cireolas agreed with him.

  

 

“Well you can’t. You are not a girl.” Jeli gave them a smug smile. “Girls are better fighters than boys.”

 

  

The elflings began to argue, and so I nipped it in the bud by ordering them to be quiet.

 

 

Cireolas handed the rest of his Fëanor doll collection to Maglor and asked him to look at them. “All the dolls have moving arms and legs.”

  

 

Maglor held up the Fëanor doll. “Do you know of the oath that Fëanor and his ionen swore?”

  

 

“No,” Cireolas answered. Jeli and Ereodan said nothing.

  

 

Maglor looked at me and I nodded my tacit agreement.

 

 

“Be he foe or friend, be he foul or clean   
Brood of Morgoth or bright Vala,  
Elda or Maia or Aftercomer,  
Man yet unborn upon Middle-earth,  
Neither law, nor love, nor league of swords,  
Dread nor danger, not Doom itself  
Shall defend him from Fëanáro, and Fëanáro’s kin,  
Whoso hideth or hoardeth, or in hand taketh,  
Finding keepeth or afar casteth  
A Silmaril. This swear we all…  
Death we will deal him ere Day’s ending,  
Woe unto world’s end! Our word hear thou,  
Eru Allfather! To the everlasting  
Darkness doom us if our deed faileth…  
On the holy mountain hear in witness  
and our vow remember,  
Manwë and Varda!”

 

  

Maglor’s voice took on the timbre of a ghost story reading. All was quiet except for the Fëanorian’s voice. After the first couple of lines Jeli joined in saying the oath with him. The room took on an eerie stillness and we were spellbound. 

 

 

“That was the terrible oath the ionen of Fëanor swore,” Maglor said looking at all of us in turn. “It was an oath that none of us should have sworn, and yet we did. We deserved our terrible fates for swearing it, and for our actions in pursuing it, and also because we did not have the wit to think for ourselves and question the consequences and morality of such an oath.” Maglor then looked at Jeli and asked how she knew the words.

  

 

“I just do.”

  

 

“I did not understand it,” Cireolas said. “Is swearing an oath always a bad thing?”

 

  

“Yes,” Ereodan and Jeli cried in unison.

  

 

“One should never swear an oath without being of sound mind and calm temperament. Then judicious consideration of the consequences should be employed.” Maglor stroked Cireolas’ head as he spoke.

 

  

Cireolas looked at me and Erestor for clarification. “Great Grandada Maglor means that you should not swear any oath without thinking really hard about what could happen if you do,” Erestor explained.

  

 

“Oh!” Cireolas said, and I felt his small fingers tapping my back as he played with a fold of material in my shirt.

  

 

“Well I am going to swear an oath. I swear that I will never ever enjoy eating dog poo.” Jeli looked triumphant.

  

 

We all laughed and Jeli put her toe in her mouth. “Neither of you follow your naughty sister’s example.”

  

 

Círdan walked into the room and picked up Ereodan. “Now, are you sure you want to come with us to the fair, or would you like to do some more painting?”

  

 

“I want to go to fair,” Ereodan said in a small voice and then looked at me. “I am sorry I was rude to you, Ada.”

 

  

“Next time I will expect you to apologise before being made to.”

 

 

Ereodan put his thumb in his mouth and laid his head against Círdan’s chest; he did not look happy.

 

 

“Well let’s go. Off to the town fair and then some dinner.” We all stood up. Erestor carried Cireolas, Maglor held Jeli, and we went into the next bedroom to collect Mélawen, whom the nanny informed us was asleep.

 

  

“I have booked a table at The Sea of Fruits,” Círdan gave me a private smile. “They offer an elfling menu and will heat up semolina if we bring some along.”

 

  

“Noooo,” Jeli cried. “I hate Semolina. Please don’t make me eat it again. I haven't even been naughty!”

  

 

“I was only joking.” Círdan kissed our little iell on the head.

 

  

Tiny Mélawen did not wake as she was put into a baby carrier, which was tied around my chest so that she could not fall out. The nannies were coming to the town with us, and I granted them some time free time to go off and enjoy themselves. They were to meet us at nine o’clock, by the gates to the fair, and then we would all go to dinner. Orophin had been invited, but he had declined saying that he wanted an early night.

  

 

Erestor collected Legolas and then we made our way to the healing rooms. Thranduil was so excited. Merilnis stood wearing thick woollen robes, leather boots and a cloak. I noticed that she wore gloves, presumably she was self conscious about her lack of fingernails.

 

 

“What a lovely surprise,” Merilnis exclaimed, holding onto her husband. It had been some time since she had last walked and so she was a little shaky. “I am especially looking forward to dinner.”

  

 

Elrond and Galadriel joined us, and so did Elladan, Elrohir, Mel and Glorfindel. We all made our way to the town in four carriages. It was too far for Merilnis to walk, and at the end of the evening we would all be tired.

 

  

As the carriages drew up, Maglor stood close to me and spoke. “I think I know who Jeli was in her former life.”

 

 

 

 

   

**Part 159 – The Family Night Out.**

 

 

“I believe Jeli is my nana,” Maglor confided. “I know she is in Valinor, but it seems she is here as well. Maybe my nana pleaded with the Valar to be able to see us again.”

 

 

“It is not likely. How would your nana have died in Valinor? Why would they send her here when she has never lived in Middle-earth?”

 

 

“I am as mystified as you,” Maglor replied. “My first thought was that Jeli must be my ada, but that is not possible because he was an ellon. However, she has his mannerisms, and so the logical conclusion is that she must be my nana.”

 

 

“Maybe one day she will say.” I wondered if I should ask Jeli if she remembered who she was. It did not feel right for me to tell Maglor, especially as I suspected that she was either trying not to tell anyone her true identity or had forgotten it. If she had no recall then the Valar had removed it from her during the presentation and I considered it was meant to be.

 

 

We stepped into the carriage and rode the short distance to the town. Círdan gave the elflings’ nannies two gold pieces each and told them to go off and have fun. I doubt if they will be able to even get through one piece between them, but we are generous employers and offer lots of perks.

 

 

Erestor and Legolas walked over to the side shows, and straightaway Legolas won a coconut in the dart throwing stall.

 

 

Baby Mélawen snuggled against my chest, she was still fast asleep. Ereodan was in Círdan’s arms, and Jeli was held by Maglor, who was helping her hook a wooden duck to see if she could win a prize. The twins ran off with Cireolas, who wanted to see the talking three headed goose. Elrond and Galadriel stayed with Círdan and me. Thranduil and Merilnis slowly walked away on their own; my ion had his arm around his wife, and I thought how wonderfully protective he was of her, even though she was easily his equal in battle and loved to engage orcs in hand to hand combat as a hobby. Every so often he kissed her cheek as they walked along, and I saw her laughing because my ion was saying things to make her do so.

 

 

“Can I have some candy floss?” Ereodan asked.

 

 

“Of course you can.” I bought some for our entire group. Being a ruling Lord has advantages, we didn't have to queue.

 

 

“I wish Saelbeth were here,” Galadriel said as she tore a chuck off the fluffy pink ball. “I would share it with him.”

 

 

“If he were here I would have bought him one of his own.” That told her.

 

 

We continued walking. As we reached the Swinging Ships, Mélawen started to wake. “Hello little one,” I said softly, smiling when she looked at me. She started to cry, wanting her nana. “Mélawen we are looking after you tonight because your nana and ada have gone to dinner. Remember?”

 

 

Galadriel took her from me and comforted her. “When we go home you can sleep with Jeli and we will take you to see your nana in the morning. We are having a wonderful adventure at the fair, little one.” Babies love Galadriel. Mel adored her when he was small. She has the knack of bringing great comfort to tiny elflings, which is surprising really as she is so large and daunting. On the other hand, she has a lovely way about her, and all babies appreciate a pleasant face. “I will hold you until we go for our dinner. You must be hungry by now.”

 

 

“I want milk,” Mélawen whined plaintively. “I want nana milk.”

 

 

The bag we brought with us contained nappies and wet cloths for wiping. The bottle of milk was down the bottom and barely warm. I gave it to Galadriel.  “Here little one.” she placed the teat to Mélawen's lips.

 

 

“Want warm nana milk.” Another tear rolled down her cheek.

 

 

There was nothing to do except to go back to the carriage and feed Mélawen myself. Círdan changed her nappy, as he is so adept after changing Cireolas’ so often. We went back to the fairground with a happy little baby, who excitedly pointed at everything she could see. We went to the hoopla and I did not win at all; however, Mélawen, helped by Galadriel, won a small teddy and was delighted with it.

 

 

Throughout the evening, elves from the town approached us to thank us for letting them stay in the castle when the town was flooded. It made moving around quite difficult. In the end, we considered going back to the carriage and waiting for the others. Galadriel politely told everyone that we were out as an ordinary family and we wanted to enjoy the fair. After saying it several times the word eventually spread and we were left alone.

  

 

We had a fun evening. Elrond won a teddy; I teased him by asking if he would cuddle it when he went to sleep that night. Jeli won a toy lizard, and was licking a huge sugar lolly dangerously near to Maglor’s hair. Ereodan won a warrior doll and a toy pig. Cireolas won a toy horse and was eating candy floss. He gave a tiny bit to Mélawen who loved it. Thranduil and Merilnis had spent the time sitting on a bench watching the world go by while eating freshly cooked doughnuts.

 

 

The nannies met us at the restaurant. They took the elflings from us and sat them on their laps. Mélawen could not stay awake and fell asleep. Ereodan and Jeli ate their pureed dinner and had ice cream for dessert. They enjoyed it so much that Jeli asked if the castle cooks could puree food as well, so that they did not have to eat semolina ever again. Towards the end of the dessert, both twins were flagging and fell asleep shortly afterwards. That left Cireolas, who showed no signs of tiring. He sat with Elrohir and chattered throughout the meal. At one point, Círdan had to tell him to eat his dinner.

 

 

It was a very good meal, much better than the castle food at the moment. Normally we eat well, but as we are still living off stores we are like a poor relation. I suppose one does not appreciate what they have until it's not there anymore.

 

 

We rode back to the castle in the carriages. After a late night hot toddy in the formal living room, our guests left and we prepared for bed. Mélawen and Jeli slept together, and the nannies put Ereodan in his own cot. Cireolas sat on my lap, feeling sleepy.

 

 

“I had a lovely time.” Cireolas put his thumb in his mouth. “Thank you for taking me.”

 

 

Cireolas is the sweetest elfling. I kissed his head and cuddled him. “Why don’t you try and go to sleep?” I pulled him up and held his head against my shoulder. “Go to sleep, little one.”

 

  

Cireolas told me he was not tired but I heard no more out of him except the sucking of his thumb as he fell asleep. “I will put him to bed.” Círdan lifted him from me. “You have a twenty mile run with the warriors in five hours time.”

 

 

Damn! I had forgotten. Oh well off to bed, and no sex for Círdan as I need my sleep.

 

  

  

 

 

 

 

**Part 160 – Punishing The Warriors.**

 

 

 

I really did not want to get out of bed in the morning; however, the warriors had a new regime and I meant to enforce it.

 

 

During the night a note had been delivered form the librarian listing the warriors who had attended the library for the battle planning exercise I set them. My early morning sleepiness turned to anger when I read it; several names were missing. I called the guards and gave them the names of the missing warriors. They were to be immediately arrested and thrown into the dungeons.

 

 

The warriors stood outside the castle entrance waiting for me. I walked to the front and addressed them. “Three warriors did not attend the library yesterday afternoon. They are now under arrest. I expect my orders to be obeyed to the letter. Do I make myself clear?” I was tired and irritable; now was not the time for flowery speech.

 

 

They nodded, and one asked who the three warriors were. None looked too worried, which made my blood boil and my resolve even firmer. I regarded them for a moment before continuing. “It matters not who they are. At present they are languishing in the cells. They will be flogged as soon as the twenty mile run is over. I will be obeyed. I am your ruler and you will do my bidding. Any of you who cannot stomach this can leave now and sail. My warriors will one day march out to meet Sauron’s forces, and we will win. We will be victorious, but not if we do not work hard to gain the upper hand.”

 

 

I could see them mentally calculating who the warriors were that did not attend the library. “Is everyone wearing full packs?” They nodded. I went down the rows and lifted each pack slightly with my hand before returning to the front.

 

 

“It has been mentioned to me that my own warriors are planning rebellion. Do any of you know about this?” The warriors looked surprised as they shook their heads, which is how I expected them to react because I had made it up; however, if there had been plans, subtle changes on the faces of the ones who knew about it would have unconsciously occurred. “I have the power of the Valar within me. It would prove exceptionally difficult for anyone to mount such a venture and succeed. Any challenge to my position could mean instant death. Others have found that out to their cost.” That told them, and it would nip any talk of rebellion in the bud before it started. “Right. Off we go.”

 

 

We ran along the beach for ten miles and back again, before going to the communal baths. While washing the sweat from our naked bodies, we sung the latest song making the rounds, in which a love affair between a monkey and a wolf is described in gory detail. The usual filthy jokes were told and reduced us all to roars of laughter, even though most were familiar to us. The warriors found I had quite a repertoire. We also repeated gossip that we had heard. As everyone knows, I do not approve of gossip but I learnt much that morning. The warriors found that I am a reasonable and fair elf, and I like to think that I did rise in their estimation. It is important to spend leisure time with ones’ troops so that we all bond, and I think the seed of the concept is starting to form in them, at long last. With this in mind, Mel and Fin have planned some group activities that are fun and demanding, so that the warriors rely on one another and not their own resources. Hopefully, all will go well.

 

 

After the bath, we all went to breakfast. The warriors split up to be with their families, many of them have elflings and the extra help is appreciated. I sat with my family. Cireolas insisted on sitting next to me; not that anyone was actually fighting for a place by my side. The twins were happy because they had mashed bananas and cream for breakfast. Jeli declared it was much better than semolina, not surprisingly Ereodan agreed with her. Cireolas had scrambled egg on toast; his favourite breakfast at the moment. Círdan and I had fried egg, beans in tomato sauce with dried bacon bits mixed in, and toast. The castle comes out of lockdown today, so we will be taking the first deliveries of fresh food this afternoon. Hopefully dinner tonight will be much more palatable than some of the meals we have endured recently.

 

 

“Do you want to go back to bed for a while and maybe have some more sleep?” Círdan looked hopeful.

 

 

I smiled. If Círdan came with me there would be no sleep, and he knew it. “We have the warriors to flog.”

 

 

“How many?”

 

 

“Three. Erestor wants to do it.” I took a sip of bergamot scented tea.

 

 

“I will do it. It will show the warriors that you have my full support.”

 

 

“Of course.” Erestor would have been the better choice; he sticks strictly to the prescribed punishment and does not give more than the prisoner can take. For him it is a fine art, but my husband uses punishment to assuage his anger, and an eye has to be kept that he does not go too far.

 

 

o0o0o0o

 

 

We stood outside, in the warrior training compound. The three recalcitrant warriors were brought before us. They did not look happy as they were lined up and their wrists chained to a bar on the makeshift stage, which the carpenters had built in the early morning. Then their ankles were secured to the floor, to limit their movement while receiving punishment.

 

 

I sat with Maglor, Mel, Glorfindel and Erestor, who were present because of their position, and in my Ada’s case to make sure justice was done. Círdan stood looking majestic and mighty. A small thrill went through my body when I thought of him in bed with me later on. He walked along the other side of the bar and looked at each warrior in turn.

 

 

“Why did you think that you did not have to obey the co-ruler of this realm?” he asked softly. “Did you think that his orders were of less importance than my own, perhaps?” They hung their heads and said nothing. Círdan walked to the front and addressed the assembled warriors.

 

 

“I am heartened that the majority of you decided to heed King Oropher’s instruction. However, I am extremely angry that there were three among you who decided not to. For this they will be punished severely." He waited a moment for his words to sink in.

 

 

"The three warriors are charged with treason, because they wilfully disobeyed orders given by a ruler of this realm. For this they will be flogged, stripped of their warrior status, and put aboard the next ship with their kin. I am in full agreement with King Oropher that there is no place for a warrior of this type in our army, or in Middle-earth.”

 

 

There were gasps from the warriors and from the three prisoners. None had expected the punishment to be that harsh. Hopefully the others would not dare do anything but obey orders from now on.

 

 

The warriors had the shirts cut from their backs. My husband flexed his bare whipping arm. I must say that I would fear being whipped by Círdan, if done in anger. He has a sure, strong arm and delivers the most powerful blows. Valar! How he turns me on!

 

 

Círdan flogged them until they were barely conscious and showed no signs of stopping. At that point, Erestor said he had punished them enough. I had to place my hand upon Círdan’s arm to break his concentration. Everyone thinks of Círdan as benign and gentle, wise and forgiving. He is like that most of the time, but when aroused his ire is fearsome and nearly unstoppable. To be the leader he is, and for so long, he has had to be so. I was torn between watching the reactions of the prisoners, who I felt a tinge of sympathy for, and looking at the strength and power of my beautiful husband’s bare torso as he whipped them, whilst thinking of the glorious time we would have in bed later. My mind is never far away from sex and with one so delicious I am not surprised.

 

 

“The sentence is delivered,” I said loudly. Círdan let his arm down. He still looked angry. So much so that I wanted to grab hold of him and have immediate furious, rough sex. Instead, I took the whip, and told the gaoler to take the elves to the healing rooms to be checked over. Their recovery could take place in the ship’s cells until they were ready to sail.

 

 

Círdan sat down. It was time for me to address the warriors. “What you have just witnessed will be the standard punishment from now on for any disobedience, no matter how small. I hope that we never have to repeat what has occurred here this morning. You all have the opportunity to be part of a greater vision, and live through a fulfilling and life changing experience. There are dark times ahead, but we have time on our side. You are the original members of the Mithlond and Lindon Warrior Army. We will expand our numbers and become even greater. We will be the elite of all the fighting forces in Middle-earth.” The warriors’ eyes nearly dropped out their head with the ambition of my plans. I heard Glorfindel assure Mel that Imladris would never lose the status of having the premier warrior force. Erestor told him that I had led a huge, supremely loyal warrior army in Amon Lanc, and he thought I could do it again. My determination increased exponentially at that moment, and I resolved to prove my brother-in-law wrong.

 

 

I continued. “Lord Glorfindel and Prince Melpomaen will not be here for much longer. Lord Maglor Fëanorian will be assuming the role of Captain of the Guard, and I will be the head of the army. Lord Maglor will lead the twenty mile run every morning and I will continue to head the current run of strategy classes. When the enemy attacks we will be at peak fitness and peak knowledge, and we will win.”

 

 

It was not the most inspired speech, but my mind was distracted somewhat by the image of my husband whipping the warriors; gratuitous violence is always a turn on, just ask Merilnis, she loves it. Glorfindel stood up and told the warriors to file out and ready themselves for some sparring. They all seemed subdued, but there was hope and the almost imperceptible thrill of a promised new adventure.

 

 

“This will take a while to set in for them,” Glorfindel said as the warriors filed out. “But when it does things should become easier.” He took Mel’s arm and they walked off in the direction of the sparring courts.

 

 

“Well that was a damned good whipping,” Erestor said, his eyes sparkling. “Don’t you think so, Ada?”

 

 

“It will not be necessary when I fully assume command,” Maglor replied. “By sheer force of personality I will change them.” I watched Erestor bite his lip, a habit he assumes when trying not to laugh.

 

 

“I am tired,” I said. Círdan grinned like an expectant child. “I've only had five hours sleep.”

 

 

“Come here.” Círdan took my arm. “Back to bed for you.”

 

 

I kissed his cheek and said goodbye to Erestor and Maglor. As we walked away I heard them discussing how sexually excited I looked when Círdan was whipping the warriors. I did not realise it was that obvious.

 

 

Círdan drew the bedcovers back. “Come on, Meleth.” He watched as I pulled my clothing off. Then he stripped and lay beside me.

 

 

We kissed and I stroked my husband’s powerful arms, inviting him to take all he wanted. Círdan’s eyes darkened with lust as he drew my legs up. After oiling himself he pushed into me and lay on my chest, moving his hips and pushing his tongue deep into my mouth, so that I felt helpless and completely at his mercy. The images in my mind, of my husband’s strength when whipping the lash of leather across the warrior’s backs, tipped me over the edge, and I came quickly without any help from his hand. I could not get enough of my only one, but in the end sleep called. I lay in his strong arms and closed my eyes, while he softly kissed my lips and stroked his fingers through my hair. I feel so loved and Círdan gives me so much pleasure. I love him so much and he is all mine!

 

  
 

 

 


	55. Part 161 – Inopportune Timing. Part 162 – Mandy the Baby Kraken. Part 163 – Uniform Lust.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cireolas falls up the stairs. The elves make a new friend. Ereolas tries on his new sailor’s uniform in front of Círdan, with predictable results ;)

 

 

**Part 161 – Inopportune Timing.**

 

 

We rose near lunchtime. After a very late breakfast, followed immediately by a light lunch, I took the warriors for their class in battle tactics and strategy. They seemed subdued and were now very respectful. In the end I had to tell them that nothing had changed. The warriors who disobeyed my orders were indeed punished harshly, but they had escaped any sort of censure because they had shown intelligence by carrying out my orders. That bucked them up slightly but they were still not very forthcoming.

 

It was time for a game. I ordered the warriors to stand in several rows of ten apiece and told them to tie their ankles together. I joined one of the rows and told two of the warriors to stand at the front and give directions in which way we should all turn. Half the groups had to listen only to the directions of one of the warriors, and the other half listen to the other warrior. Both warriors directing had very similar voices and so it would be hard to discern whose orders to follow. We all ended up on the floor in a heap, laughing ourselves stupid.

 

I untied my ankle and told the rest to free themselves. We all sat down again and I told them why we needed to think from the enemy perspective. I finished by telling them that we would discuss what they had found out in the library the previous day and they could present their findings as a group. One of the groups had a lesser number because the punished warriors came from that one, and so I told them that they could devise a plan where they were spies instead, passing information to a fighting unit. All seemed much happier. After the session they left the room in a much lighter mood.

 

My next stop was to find Círdan and take the elflings to the beach with a picnic. It was a spur of the moment decision because the weather was so clement. I collected a wicker basket of food and wine from the kitchen, and a bag with a towel and a rug in it from a store cupboard in my bedroom, then I made my way to Círdan’s office.

 

“Meleth,” I said as I put the wicker basket down. “I have a basket of food and a rug to sit on. Let’s go and picnic on our beach.”

 

Círdan put his quill down and smiled. “Come and sit on my lap.” He opened the front of his robe. I sat astride my only one, unbuttoned his shirt, kissed his lips and grinned. His hand held the back of my neck and pulled me in for a deep kiss.

 

“I don’t know if we will get down to the beach for that picnic,” I breathed, the images of my husband’s powerful arms as he whipped the warriors that morning flashing through my mind and increasing my lust.

 

Fate intervenes at the least fortuitous of times and normally it is in the form of little children. There was a knock on the door. After I jumped of Círdan’s lap, and he had rearranged his robe, I answered it. Cireolas was in Orophin’s arms, crying loudly. He reached for me and I took him; the poor elflings' mouth was pouring with blood and dripping down the Hello Vampire baby warrior outfit that Mel gave him when he took him to the fair.

 

“Cireolas was running and fell up the castle steps.” Orophin dabbed a cold cloth on my ion’s split lip which made him yell louder.

 

“Better than falling down the steps, I suppose.”

 

Círdan took Cireolas in his arms. “Every elfling falls up the steps and splits his lip open at one point,” he said to Cireolas, who was howling even louder now his favourite parent was holding him. “Come and sit down with me and we will have a cuddle.”

 

“I had managed to calm him down until we knocked on the door.” Orophin handed the wet cloth pad to me. “The healer has soaked this in some herbal muck and said to press it on Cireolas’ lip.”

 

“I was going to take the elflings to the beach. I expect he would still like to go.”

 

“Of course he will. Shall I bring the elflings along here?”

 

“All right.” I nodded. “We will be staying for the afternoon I think, so you can have the rest of the day off.”

 

“It will give me time to get the room ready for Mir. She is visiting me for a whole week.” Orophin grinned like an elfling who has opened his first ever box of sweets.

 

“Will there be another baby in a year’s time?” I joked.

 

“Mir has one every two or three years, so I expect so.” Orophin grinned. “I think it will be our thirty-sixth elfling. Happily quite a few of them are grown up now.”

 

“You are supplying Lothlórien with her next generation of warriors?”

 

“It makes up for my brothers not having elflings I suppose.” Orophin shrugged as he grinned. “I will tell the nannies to bring Jeli and Ereodan along.”

 

“Orophin,” Círdan called.

 

He came back into the room. “Yes?”

 

“As Mir is coming to see you, why don’t you take the rest of the week off and show her around?” Círdan jiggled Cireolas on his knee to make him smile. “The Sea of Fruits was very good last night. You could take her there.”

 

“Thank you, my Lord.” Orophin's eyes shone with joy. He must have missed his wife very much. He left the room and I closed the door behind him.

 

“We will give him extra on his salary this week so that he can afford to take Mir anywhere he wants to,” I said as I looked at Cireolas’ lip. Círdan nodded in agreement. “How did you fall up the steps, little one?”

 

Cireolas said that he held Lord Manwë responsible for the accident. I asked how that was, while trying to control my laughter. He explained that Manwë was the Lord of Airs and he had been knocked over by a sudden gust of wind, therefore, the Vala had aimed the gust at him to make him fall over. How Círdan and I laughed.

 

“It not funny,” he lisped. “My lip swollen and hurt, an Erradan and Jeli laugh at me.”

 

I picked Cireolas up and cuddled him. “We are going to the beach soon and we can swim in the water and have a picnic.”

 

“Just you, me and Ada?” Cireolas asked. “No twins, they laugh at me.”

 

“I will tell them not to. Although if I do and they hurt themselves in future I will expect you not to laugh at them.”

 

Cireolas did not reply; he knew that he would not be able to resist laughing if his brother or sister fell over, and what is more he knew that I knew as well.

 

Shortly after, Orophin returned with the twins. We set off for our afternoon in on the beach under Anor’s sunny beams, looking every inch the happiest of families.

 

 

 

 

**Part 162 – Mandy the Baby Kraken.**

 

 

Our private beach, is enclosed by rocks creating a sheltered bay with shallow water. I set the rug on the ground and we spread the food out, chicken mousse with mashed beetroot for Jeli and Ereodan, and chicken and watercress sandwiches for the rest of us. Círdan and I had a glass of wine, and Cireolas had some as well because the orange juice made his lip sting. We watered it down but he still enjoyed it and thought that he was terribly grown up. Jeli and Ereodan had some milk and then we were ready to play.

 

When we were all stripped off we ran into the sea. I had Cireolas in my arms and Círdan had Jeli and Ereodan in his. How divine he looked, his strong arms holding our tiny elflings. We jumped about, throwing seaweed and kicking sea water. Cireolas wanted to make a sandcastle and so I helped him, whilst Jeli, Ereodan and Círdan looked for shells to decorate the walls. We had a lovely afternoon as a family with no interruptions from anyone. The twins were very well behaved and Cireolas’ castle looked extremely impressive, especially when the incoming tide filled the moat with seawater. After a couple of hours of fun we sat on the beach and dried off. The twins were dressed first and then we had to catch Cireolas because he ran off when we said it was his turn. He loves running around with no clothing on.

 

Círdan carried him back, under the arm that had whipped the warriors a few hours before. Cireolas was giggling but stopped when a bright pink coral ball landed beside me. I looked up; about ten yards away I saw a tentacled creature, measuring about ten feet across. My blood ran cold.

 

Can you throw my ball back please?” the creature called. “The mermaids won’t play with me because they are going to a party tonight and want to get ready, and Uncle Ulmo is busy with the mer-warriors, they are going to catch a snark!”

 

Círdan backed away from the edge of the shore. Cireolas, who knew nothing of the previous Kraken and her children, waved to it. “Hello,” he shouted.

 

“Hello. My name is Mandy. What is yours?” The tentacled creature seemed to have a very different personality to the others I had met.

 

“My name is Cirrus,” he shouted. “Ada throw your ball back.”

 

Just in case the creature became nasty I threw the ball back to her. “Thank you,” she squealed, with what I assume was joy. Then she threw it back again.

 

I saw that I would have no choice but to play ball with a creature that I was wary of. I remembered the pain I endured when Janet the Kraken’s children had tried to tear the skin and flesh from my feet, and never wanted to repeat the experience. Then I remembered that I had defeated the Kraken and was heartened; however it did not last long because I also remembered that I was using Manwë’s power to fight with. I feared this creature was the new Kraken and hoped she was possessed of a better temperament than her predecessor.

 

I threw the ball back several more times and she squealed with happiness each time I did. Then she was joined by a couple of the younger mer-children who told Mandy that it was tea time and as she was young there would be no more playing out because it was nearly bed time.

 

Mandy made noises that sounded as though she was upset. “But it is still light. I want to play with my new friends.”

 

“Now, now,” a voice came from behind her. It was Ulmo. He put his hand under her, picked her up and told her that it was tea time and she could play with us another time. “Do not be frightened by baby Mandy,” he called to me. “She is the new Kraken, but is blessed with the sweetest of temperaments. Lord Manwë is most desirous that she becomes a friend to the elves, but that works both ways."

 

“They are my new friends, Uncle Ulmo,” Mandy the Kraken said eagerly. “They played ball with me.”

 

“Yes, I know,” Ulmo replied and tickled one of her tentacles making her screech with laughter. “You can see them again when they next come to the beach.”

 

“When will that be?”

 

“They are very busy so it will not be for at least a week,” Ulmo replied gently.

 

“I will miss them. They played with me. No one hardly ever plays ball with me.” Mandy waved to us and asked if we would come back soon. We waved back, promising that we would, and shouted good bye.

 

No matter how sweet she was, I still found her tentacles unnerving. When she is fully grown she will be awesome and her tentacles fearsome. I hope that Ulmo is able to control his new pet as I do not fancy Mel or me having to kill her if she turns out like her forebear. I understood Ulmo when he said that Lord Manwë was desirous that she never pose a danger to the elves but I knew that he would expect Ulmo to enforce it. After finding out that Ulmo had the previous Kraken as his lover I was not too confident that Mandy would remain the sweet natured friend of the elves, especially if she found out that Mel and I had been responsible for Janet’s demise.

 

We dressed quickly and gathered up our accompaniments, and made our way back to the castle. We went to the library after dropping the picnic basket off at the kitchen and putting the rug and towels in the laundry. Everyone we met made a fuss of Cireolas because his lip was swollen and he revelled in the attention.

 

“He has only cut his lip,” Jeli said as if bored.

 

“Orophin told him not to run and he ignored him. So it serves him right,” Ereodan told us.

 

“Of course, you never do anything wrong, do you?” Círdan looked at them pointedly.

 

“If Orophin told me not to do something, I would think it was for my own good and I would not do it,” Jeli replied. I wondered if she had her fingers crossed.

 

“Me neither,” Ereodan lied.

 

“I think it is nearly bedtime for the elflings who are being naughty. Do you agree, Ereolas?” Círdan said. Cireolas smirked.

 

“Absolutely.”

 

“Nooo, we will be good,” Jeli whined, then she pointed to the other side of the library. “Who is that with Orophin?”

 

“Ah, she is Lady Mirfain, Orophin’s wife. They have thirty-five children.” I smiled, knowing I could not have any more.

 

“How did they have that many?” Ereodan looked slightly shocked.

 

“Well, you know Unca Mel is half-Maia?” They nodded. “When Mirfain married Orophin, Mel said that he hoped they had lots of elflings. He did not know about his powers then, but I think if Mirfain sees Mel again she will have a few choice words to say.”

 

“Sometimes Unca Mel gets things wrong but he always tries to do what is right,” Jeli said.

 

“Unca Mel is great,” Cireolas said. “He told me so.”

 

“I love Unca Mel too,” Ereodan grinned. “Did he bless you with having babies too, Ada?”

 

“No. I inherited that of my Ada Legolas. He was cursed by Saruman, because he wouldn't paint his portrait.”

 

We sat for a while and read to the elflings, then it was time to go and change for dinner. We were having an early meal as we wanted to retire shortly afterwards. The nannies met us in the dinner hall after we had eaten and took our elflings off for a bath and then to bed, while we sat in the gallery hall and shared a drink with Mel and Glorfindel.

 

“Mir has arrived.” Mel replied that he already knew.

 

“She came up to me and said that I had cursed her when I wished her lots of elflings and was quite stroppy about it, so I told her that she would have no more, which shut her up and took the wind out of her sails somewhat.” Mel grinned. “Orophin said that he quite liked having elflings; the glare Mir gave him would have melted mithril.”

 

“Apparently the only reason she agreed to Orophin coming here was because she was sick of getting pregnant.” Glorfindel chuckled. “I wonder if she wants him to go home now she will not have any more babies.”

 

“Orophin has a twenty year contract and she knows it,” Círdan said. “We pay him handsomely, so I think she would like to keep the lifestyle that goes with it as he sends most of his money back to her. He earns double what a Marchwarden would.”

 

I stood up and Círdan took hold of my hand and smiled at me. “Come on, meleth. Time for our night of passion.”

 

Mel and Fin laughed, while Círdan grinned. He stood up and hugged me. “Come on then, time for bed.”

 

We walked out of the room and as I looked back I saw Mel lying against Glorfindel, who had his arm around him. They looked so sweet together.

 

 

 

 

 

**Part 163 – Uniform Lust**

 

 

“Damn you look good in your new uniform.” Círdan's eyes shone with lust. “I don’t know whether I should take you on this jaunt being the distraction you are.”

 

 

About three months ago, when we were making plans against the Pirate colony headed by Captain Jack Lash, Círdan had a uniform made for me so that I could sail with him on his ship and defeat the pirates. There was an incredible amount of gold braid on the midnight-blue suede leather, with silk white leggings, white calfskin gloves, gold studded, midnight-blue leather boots, and a shirt billowing with lace from the cuffs and neck. That was the everyday uniform, and when I looked in the mirror I thought an elleth was staring back at me, my honeyed skin and tumbling blond waves framed my face, making me look more beautiful than an ellon had any right to be. The more formal one, which I had not tried on, had even more gold braid and lace, plus medals, plaques and a sash over the midnight blue silk.

 

 

“Then do not take me,” I teased as I played with the lace on my shirt. “But would you pass up the opportunity to have me in all my finery?”

 

 

“You are too much.” Círdan grabbed hold of me, none too gently, and kissed me roughly. “Come here.” He pushed me across the desk and quickly pulled my coat up and my leggings down. Swiftly he oiled himself; I could see him in the full length mirror a couple of feet away from the desk. Then I sighed with delight as his arms held me firm. I could have moved, but it is my fantasy that Círdan contains me so that I cannot and I am completely at his mercy. I felt him within me, and he whispered all sorts of delicious things in my ear.

 

 

“I’m coming,” I gasped.

 

 

“Don’t ruin your shirt.” Círdan pulled me to him and sighed heavily. I could feel him smiling. I just missed my shirt but several of Círdan’s documents will need rewriting. He did not care though. “I do not know how I am going to leave you alone when we are on our ship. You are a vision of loveliness in my eyes.”

 

 

I wrapped my arms around him and smiled. “Your turn.”

 

 

Later that morning we had a meeting of war. The warriors had uncovered the passages leading from the pirate colony, so we had a map of the tunnels. I had spent the last six weeks drilling the warriors on what our plan of action would be and making them practise almost non-stop. They now knew how to think like a pirate so they could anticipate their actions. Maglor, Mel and Glorfindel would head the warriors as they went down the tunnels, meeting us in the colony as we approached from the sea.

 

 

I know bugger all about ships. I know they have sails and a mast, and that Círdan has the Captain’s room. I have no official status, but the crew have to obey me anyway. How delicious is that? I joked that I was Círdan’s cabin boy, and he replied that I was. Smacked bottom for him later on! Although, I expect he will enjoy it.

 

 

I said goodbye to the elflings, and they told me that they would miss me. “You are not going for too long, are you?” Cireolas looked worried.

 

 

“We will be as short a time as possible. But we have to go and get rid some bad pirates first.”

 

 

“I will miss your milk,” Jeli said to me.

 

 

“It is lucky we have completed the bonding process, now that you are gallivanting off, isn’t it?” Ereodan raised his eyebrows.

 

 

We exchanged a few more pleasantries, and I assured the elflings that they would be safe in the hands of their nannies and Orophin. They were used to Círdan sailing and so they were not too concerned with him going, but they made it clear they would miss me the most.

 

 

We made our way down to the dock, with all the elves from the town cheering us on. I was thrilled with anticipation because we were going into battle, plus I couldn’t wait to try out the new bed in Círdan's rooms.

 

 

We waved to Erestor, Legolas, and the elflings, as the ship drew away from the dock. Anor shone brightly and the clouds raced in the sky, the wind billowing the white sails. We made good speed and would be nearing the colony in a matter of hours. I was thrilled throughout, having never sailed on a proper sea voyage before, and I wanted to jump up and down with joy like an elfling.

 

 

We did not have to go very far. Four hours later we spied the Pirate colony. We saw their ships first. A fine battle was being fought on land and the pirates were trying to escape into the sea and on ships.

 

“This is it,” Círdan grinned. “You are about to fight your first sea battle.”

 

 

“But they are ellith,” I protested. Indeed the nearest ship did look as though it was filled with fleeing females.

 

 

Círdan laughed. “Have a closer look, Meleth. How many ellith have five o’clock shadow on their chins?”

 

 

I must have been the only one on the ship fooled by the pirates garn. “Oh! Right.”

 

 

“Should we take our finery off before fighting?” I did not want to get the jacket ruined.

 

 

Absolutely not. Half of fighting a sea battle is looking the part.”

 

 

Círdan’s second, Lancaeron, was heading his own ship and looked dressed to kill, literally. He had a rack of medal ribbons on his chest and his sword was already drawn. The Captains of the three other ships, in total we made five, were also looking as though they were going to an exceptionally smart function. Their seconds, and the crew, were also particularly dashing. All of the sailors had braids guiding their fall of hair to the nape of the neck, with a skull-head clip keeping it in place. No wonder ellith swoon over sailors, they looked stunningly rakish and devilishly handsome, and I have the most fetching one of all sleeping in my bed every night.

 

 

The pirates did not realise they had been rumbled until it was too late. Círdan’s sailors waved to them and blew kisses. As our boat drew up alongside, we pulled out our swords and boarded. I love fighting. I love the sounds of battle and find it a huge turn on. I looked at the other sailors, from their leggings I could tell they loved the fray just as much.

 

 

This would be one of the finest of battles.

 

 


	56. Part 164 – The Incredibly Brilliant Battle with the Fearsome Pirates!  Part 165 – Love After the Battle. Part 166 – The Ceremony of the Sea Virgins.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Círdan and Ereolas defeat the pirate colony. Círdan and Ereolas christen the new captain’s bed. Ereolas is woken up at dawn for a ceremony in which Círdan presides.

**Part 164 – The Incredibly Brilliant Battle with the Fearsome Pirates!**

 

There were three other pirate ships, which were being boarded by the other ships under Círdan’s command. The Queen of the Bells, was ours to conquer. We fought with acrobatic daring; at one point I ran along a cross beam and jumped on the back of two pirates before slitting their throats with my dagger. Then I leapt upwards to catch hold of a stray rope and swung around to attack a pirate who was catapulting burning balls of pitch at our ship. The flaming ball nestled in a long handled basket, ready to throw. Swiftly, my dagger plunged between the pirate's ribs. He grunted as I kicked the basket handle, causing the flaming missile to drop into the store pitch balls. They burst into flame. So quick was I that there was little the pirate could do in reaction. I was surprised he was still alive; my dagger should have killed him. I gave him a winning smile as he lunged for me. Swinging from the mast, then balancing on the crossbeam, thirty feet up, we battled with our swords, the clash of metal music to my ears. He had a heavy sabre and slashed at me, while I deflected his blows with my lighter mithril sword. The more I grinned the angrier he became. He roared with anger when I nicked his cheek, just below the eye.

 

 

“Eww! Look at your horrid black teeth,” I said in disgust; after all, there is no need to have bad oral hygiene just because one is a pirate.

 

 

“It is very hard to find a dentist around here,” the pirate replied, lunging again, this time cutting a piece of my gold braiding. Damn, I thought, Círdan will be annoyed. We fought viciously and for quite a time. In spite of his nasty mouth he was a good swordsman. In the end, I leaned forward, while blocking him with my sword, and in a series of beautifully artistic and awesome point parries I managed to flick a flaming pitch ball with my dagger. Upwards it flew. When the pirate looked up to watch it was already descending. The flaming ball hit his face and he yelled all the way down to the deck. Happily, for him, he landed on a pirate wearing a lime-green and peach velvet dress, which as a colour combination doesn’t really gel at all.

 

 

I had such a lot of fun and managed to kill twenty-six pirates. All warriors keep a score and sailors do too it seems. In the end, we had to abandon the ship because the pitch balls had fallen to the deck and there were flames everywhere. Círdan ordered that the pirates not be rescued as a lesson to the others that our realm could not be threatened. They jumped ship and I saw a group of mermaids approaching them. I have never known mermaids to be anything but pleasant, but on closer inspection these were the merchildren of Ulmo and they are vicious warriors. The pirates yelled in agony as they tore them to shreds with their pointed teeth, while we watched in horrified fascination.

 

 

Any pirate who fell in the sea was attacked by Ulmo’s warriors.  “Supposing an elf falls in the sea?” I asked Círdan. I hoped none of our subjects would meet such a horrifying death just because they fought for us.

 

 

“No idea,” Círdan replied. “Shall we throw one in to find out?” He laughed and told me he was joking. It wasn't much of a joke though.

 

 

We landed by the dock and disembarked. On land there was a fearsome battle raging and our warriors were fighting extremely well. They seemed to have taken on board that they needed to look out for each other and were fighting as a force. We worked hard for this and it looked as if we would succeed on our first serious encounter with the enemy.

 

 

The sight was awesome, many hundreds of pirates fighting around ninety warriors and a whole fleet of sailors, two-hundred strong. We were heavily outnumbered, but we are elves, and man could match us for speed and agility. They bumbled around as we positively flew at them. The women were slightly faster but still no match for us.

 

 

At one point I saw Círdan fighting with the new leader of the pirates. When it looked like he was about to win, he told the leader to surrender or die. “We would rather die you filthy pig,” the pirate screeched back. So Círdan killed him. None of the pirates would surrender and they fought to the last man and woman. Every time we tried to get them to surrender, even when we surrounded them, they still aimed their swords at us. When we overpowered them, hoping to take them alive, the pirates slit their own throats rather than be taken.

 

 

The whole of the small colony was silent. In the distance, I could hear the sounds of a baby crying. Mel went through the houses and found an underground room of small elflings. There were five of them, three were toddlers and two were babies. I strongly suspected their mothers were dead, and so I ordered two of the warriors to look after them.

 

 

Maglor appeared beside Círdan and me. “Most of these pirates are not full human. I think they might be crossed with orcs.” He was right. I had thought of the men as particularly ugly, having black snaggleteeth and grey-white complexions, but that was how they would be if crossed with an orc.

 

 

“Now we know why they fought to the death." I looked at the small children and they were humans crossed with orcs as well. “What do we do with them? There is no place they can go.”

 

 

“We could raise them in the castle and see where their talents lie,” Círdan suggested. “Or we could ask the humans in the nearby village to take them in.”

 

 

“They will not take children who are half orc. They will kill them.”

 

 

The humans in the local village were notoriously superstitious. About fifty years ago, when I first came to live in Mithlond, there was a big investigation because a child had been sacrificed to the God of the Earth’s Awakening. Círdan told them threatened the whole village with execution if it ever happened again. All deaths in that village are still investigated and records are kept of all pregnancies, births and movements in and out. We have long memories, even though most of the perpetrators are now dead. The concern was that these unfortunate children might meet with organised accidents, so we could not let it happen.

 

 

The children were taken on board our ship. We wondered why they did not cry; they appeared subdued and quiet, not really reacting at all. Perhaps they were used to violence. All around us were hundreds of bodies, staining the beach red with their blood. “We cannot dig a pit deep enough,” Círdan mused.

 

 

“Erm, excuse me,” a voice came from the dock. We looked around and one of the fearsome merchildren warriors looked at us and grinned. “They would make very good fish food.”

 

 

“Would it be morally right though?” Círdan pondered.

 

 

“It is Lord Ulmo’s suggestion rather than mine.” The formerly fierce warrior looked as gentle as one of the workers in the elflings' play rooms.

 

 

“If Lord Ulmo wishes it, then so shall it be done.” Círdan smiled, no doubt relieved that the decision was not his anymore.

 

 

“Throw them in without clothing please,” the warrior said. “It can be very hard for little fish to undo buttons.”

 

 

It was most bizarre, especially when Mandy, the baby Kraken, appeared beside the warrior because she wanted to say hello to Círdan and me.

 

 

“What are you doing here little one?” The warrior stroked her head. “You know you are not allowed to travel too far. It is very dangerous here. You could get hurt.” He looked so loving and tender that I had to remind myself that he was the same warrior who had torn a pirate’s throat out with his teeth.

 

 

“Uncle Ulmo brought me so I could see the battle. He said that my friends are here too.” Mandy saw me and waved. I greeted her and waved back.

 

 

“Círdan,” I called. “Mandy has come to see us.”

 

 

Círdan waved to her and several of his sailors waved too. In the end, it got around that the tentacled creature was our friend, Mandy, and so everyone waved. She was a happy little girl.

 

 

We threw the first of the bodies in the water. Mandy clung to the warrior because they scared her. I found that most heartening. “You will be all right,” the warrior said, smiling. “They cannot hurt you.”

 

 

“Their eyes are open. They look scary.”

 

 

“You are a silly one,” the warrior laughed. He put his arm around her. She giggled and told him that she couldn’t help it if dead bodies scared her.

 

 

We threw all the bodies in the sea and they were taken away by the merchildren. The warrior told Mandy it was time to go. After waving goodbye they swam off following the others. We watched them until they disappeared under the waves.

 

 

Beyond the bloodied sand stood the shacks the pirates lived in. We searched the area. In the distance I heard Mel shout. He had found something.

 

. 

 

 

 

**Part 165 – Love After the Battle**

 

 

“Look at all this treasure.” Mel held a door open at the entrance to a cave, it was disguised as a slab of rock.

 

A mountain of treasure glinted, reflected by Anor's rays. Piled up in the back of the cave was a splendid pile of mithril, gold, and assorted gemstones, laying loose and also worked into coins, cups, plates, ornaments, statues, candelabra and many other items of exquisiteness. I had never seen the like since defeating the dragon when I lived in Amon Lanc. The hoard here was easily equivalent to the one we found then.

 

Círdan ordered that the treasure be loaded aboard our ship and taken to the castle, where it could be catalogued later. “This has been a profitable day indeed. We have rescued five small children from a life of probable hardship and early death and we have found some treasure as well.”

 

"No to mention defeating the enemy."

 

“Ereolas, look at this,” Mel shouted. He held up a ladies undergarment. “It's a girdle and has, ‘Property of Melian’ engraved on it.”

 

So Melian’s girdle was literal as well as being the boundary of Doriath. “Let us give it to Lindir as a memento of his nana,” I said. “It's his by right.”

 

“We had better not tell Elrond; he will want it for his family memento collection.” Mel grinned naughtily. “Do you remember how he was literally coming in his pants when he found Dior’s baby cup?”

 

I laughed, remembering it well. I had never seen Elrond so excited. He made a point of showing the relic to official visitors, proudly telling them that the tiny wood and gold banded cup had belonged to the former ruler of Doriath, who just happened to be his grand ada. As a cup it was functional and made to last. The gold was there to add strength rather than decoration, but it was still exquisite in design. However, it was hardly worth showing off as a special object. Melian’s girdle would surely be a coup when compared to the baby cup. It was rather fortunate that Elrond had gone home to Imladris a month previous after healing Merilnis; otherwise Vilya would have revealed such an artefact straightaway.

 

Círdan ordered that the item be secreted away so that it could remain safe until it could be given to Lindir. We watched the treasure being loaded onto the boat and then we searched the area to see if there was anything else we could take; we were the victors and so it was our right. We found some items that we thought should be given to the rescued children when they were adults, so they could have a sense of coming from somewhere and mementoes of their past. Part of Elrond’s obsessive collecting was because of his sense of displacement.

 

In one of the shacks we found a map. It was a treasure map and detailed a place just up the coast. “I will keep this until we are ready to find it.” Círdan said softly. “This day keeps getting better and better.”

 

My uniform was filthy and torn, whilst Círdan's looked immaculate. How did he manage to stay like that when he fought the battle just as hard as I did? He treated me to a lascivious grin and assured me that I would not need to take any clothing off when we next had sex. “Your beauty is so delicate against the coarseness of these rags,” Círdan said as he kissed me. “How engagingly dishevelled you are. Our bed is calling us, Meleth.”

 

“Indeed it is, but are we able to get away when there is so much to do?”

 

Círdan sighed. “Probably not.”

 

The day was drawing in, and so we piled all the junk we could find and set a fire underneath it. Anything that could be of use, such as spyglasses and floorboards, were kept aside. We had no use for rickety furniture and broken window frames so they were thrown onto the fire. Elves try to avoid cutting trees down for wood, so the wooden items would prove to be most useful.

 

Círdan and I checked on the children. The cook had fed the three toddlers and given milk to the two babies. All were fast asleep in the bottom bunk in one of the sailor’s cabins, so we went back to the bonfire and sat down, letting the flames warm us. It wasn't particularly cold but we felt the chill, as warriors always do after fighting a hard battle. We all sang songs of victory, and my heart felt a pull as I recognised the ones from when I was king in Amon Lanc.

 

The cuts of meat we brought from the ship roasted on spits as we drank our ale and relaxed on mats covering the blood soaked sand. We had fought hard and won an astounding victory. My warriors had acquitted themselves well and I knew that one day we would be the army I promised they would be. One day we would march out and stand alongside the great elven armies of Imladris, Lothlórien and Mirkwood and know we were their equal.

 

We ate our fill and drank until we were legless and then we boarded the ship. The warriors came onboard the ships as well and slept on the decks. All was quiet. In the distance, the bonfire burnt down to the embers, and I could see Vingilot shining upon us.

 

“It is a beautiful night and you are the loveliest star of them all,” I said to Círdan as I wrapped my arms around him. It did not occur to me that any of my warriors would hear me or groan at my words. One shouted for us to get a room.

 

“Not only will we have a room,” I swaggered, “we shall also have a soft feather bed.”

 

I was not surprised that I was hit with several small missiles, including a wormy apple. We went to Círdan’s rooms and I climbed into bed; he would not let me take my uniform off, he wanted to do it. His sharp dagger slit the front of my lace ruffled shirt and the laces holding my ripped and stained silk leggings. He tore my clothing away leaving me completely nude. Then he squeezed the flat of the blade to the side of my nipple and drank the milk that flowed from it. Then he collected it in his palm and smeared it over my chest and face before kissing and licking it away.

 

“You are so fucking beautiful,” Círdan breathed. He squeezed more milk into his hand and made his way down the bed. My willy was covered with the warmth of my milk, and Círdan sucked and licked until I could take no more. His hands dug into my hips as I came and he swallowed. “Milk and cream, Meleth.” He grinned and kissed the pit of my belly.

 

“Come up here and hold me. Kiss me until I cannot breathe.”

 

Círdan’s lust filled eyes bore through me. He kissed me, almost brutally, as I held onto him. Swiftly, and with rough hands, he pulled my legs up and held onto my thighs before dipping his head down to thrust his tongue into my secret entrance. I closed my eyes and begged for more.

 

I felt the cold trickle of oil and sighed with relief. Círdan had nearly brought me to completion several times and now I needed it urgently. He tore the lace from my discarded shirt with his bare hands, splitting it into two. Then with one piece he tied my wrists together above my head and fastened it to the headboard with the other. All the time I wriggled and pleaded with him to fuck me. “Shush, Patience is a virtue.”

 

"Get on with it!"

 

Fingers rubbed the oil around my secret entrance and I breathed a sigh of relief as he finally pushed in. “Happy now?”

 

I said nothing. My lips were parted and I looked at my only one as he pushed into me. My hands pushed against the headboard and my arms bent as his thrusts moved us both up the bed.

 

His balls slapped against my skin with increasing ferocity and speed. It was all too much. My back arched and I let go, coming so violently it hit my cheek and shoulder in a long line of pearlescent white. Círdan pushed some more and then cried out his completion. When he withdrew he sucked his seed from my entrance, and shared it with me from his mouth, whilst smoothing my own across my face and shoulder.

 

The loops of lace were pulled free from my wrists. “That was good” Círdan said. “Feel my heart. It's beating so fast that if I were human I would have died of a heart attack.”

 

I snuggled close to my husband, enjoying his scent and warmth, luxuriating in not having to say anything.

 

“I will miss your milk when it stops flowing.” Círdan kissed my shoulder.

 

I lay in his strong arms and snuggled further. “The milk keeps flowing as long as there is someone to drink it. Jeli said nearly the same thing to me this afternoon before we set off.”

 

“Well, she can switch to juice, and so can Ereodan, and this will be all mine.”

 

“You are such a silly one,” I said, grinning sleepily. “Come, my adult baby, let’s sleep.”

 

“What did you call me?” Círdan looked shocked. I giggled and snuggled into him.

 

“Well you are the milk drinker.” Círdan tickled me and I screeched loudly.

 

“That does not mean I am an adult baby.” Círdan dug his fingers in my ribs so I squealed with laughter. So much so, that I could not defend myself. “Don’t you dare call me one again.” He laughed as he tickled me. I could hardly breathe because I was howling so much. “I know I am the Master of Kink, but I am not that bad.”

 

“All right, all right,” I cackled. “I won’t ever say it again.” Círdan seemed mollified. He held me close and kissed my lips, and I said softly, “Even though you are.”

 

More laughter ensued, and in the end we were both worn out from tickling each other. We slumped together and held on tightly before falling into a deep sleep. Tomorrow we would land at the Mithlond docks and I would see my elflings again. It was only as I drifted off that I hoped I had bought a change of clothing!

 

 

**Part 166 – The Ceremony of the Sea Virgins**

 

Círdan woke me at dawn. “Go away I am too tired,” I moaned, trying to grab at the sheet and turn over.

 

“We have to ask Ulmo’s blessing for the new crew aboard.” Círdan pulled away the sheet before I could get a firmer grip. “We all need to be present, especially you.”

 

“Why me?”

 

“Because you are one of the rulers of Mithlond, silly!” Círdan threw me some clothes.

 

I put Círdan’s clothing on as I had packed none of my own. It was not his best, but as he had old clothing on as well I did not question it, although I should have. However, I did ask Círdan why we couldn’t postpone asking Ulmo for his blessing until later on in the day before going up onto the deck.

 

“It is tradition,” Círdan explained. “It won’t take long and then we can have something to eat.”

 

Something inside my brain was ringing warning bells but I thought it must be because I was so tired. There was a huge tub to the side of the deck and all the sailors were to one side of it and sitting down. Glorfindel and Maglor sat with them; they waved when I saw them. Obviously they had been through the ceremony before. Lancaeron, Círdan’s second, put a cloak made of fish scales around my husband’s shoulders and a crown made of seaweed upon his head. I groaned; realising the new seafarers would have to endure the Ceremony of the Sea Virgins. There was nothing I could do about it and now I knew why Círdan gave me old clothing to wear. He gave me an evil grin and I shot him a look of pure happiness, just to annoy him.

 

I was told to stand with my warriors, who asked me what was happening. “It is the Ceremony of the Sea Virgins. Much like the initiation ceremony for new warriors, apparently.” I looked around and saw Mel talking to a warrior at the back of the group. It would not be so bad if my brother was to go through it as well.

 

“Shit...” the warrior said, he was standing opposite me. “My Lord, can’t we refuse?”

 

“We are hardly in a position to. In any case, we wouldn’t let any of them refuse if they came on patrol with us.” I sighed, wishing that the day was already over.

 

“Well, do you know what they do?” the warrior next to me asked. “I hope they don’t put a pint of cold pea soup up our arses.” That is what happens when a first time warrior on patrol, of any realm, nears home at the end. He has to ride back, completely naked, with a pint of cold pea soup inside him, and mud mixed with pea soup sloshed all over his body. He also has to wear a flower up his arse, which must not come loose or else he has to go back and do it all over again. When the warrior arrives home the ruling Lord has to remove the flower with his teeth and then declare the warrior an ion of the land. I assumed this would be just as bad.

 

“I have no idea what they do. I never thought that one night at sea would lead to an initiation ceremony.”

 

All the time the two warriors were feeding back what I said to the others. I lowered my voice and addressed the nearest warriors, “No matter what happens, do not resist and accept it all cheerfully. If they see us protesting they will make the ordeal much worse.”

 

“Quite right,” Mel agreed. “If they see you wincing they will do it all the more.”

 

Círdan cleared his throat and looked pointedly at me. I smiled saucily, which disconcerted him somewhat. He unrolled the scroll and began reading.

 

“We call upon his most gracious royal Majesty, Lord Ulmo, Valar of all the Seas and Lord of all Waters, to bless our new members of crew and seek your protection upon the high seas.”

 

The ship swayed slightly and Lord Ulmo rose majestically from the depths to the port side of the ship. We were the size of a child’s toy compared to him. He wore his crown, and in his hands he held a sceptre and his ceremonial sword. Mandy, the baby Kraken, sat on his forearm and waved to us all; she looked very excited. By Ulmo’s side was Uinen, the Lady of the Waters, and on his other side, Ossë her husband.

 

“I have answered your call.” Ulmo boomed. “My servant, Lord Círdan, appointed High King of the Teleri in Middle-earth and Lord of Ossiriand. What is your plea?”

 

I was most interested that Círdan was mentioned as the ‘appointed’ High King of the Teleri. He did not use his title, even though it was given by Manwë himself. The ‘appointed’ part of the appellation meant that there was at least one living descendent of Elu Thingol and Melian who would have a legitimate claim to the title. The Valar obviously chose to ignore this small fact when making Círdan High King. The title was Lindir’s, by right, as he was the sole descendent, and I wondered if he knew. I also pondered whether the Valar decided to bypass him, to protect his closely guarded anonymity, or ignored him because he is a total drama queen. I prefer to think it was the latter because it reinforces my belief that Manwë is a absolute bastard who likes disrupting elves' destinies; however, in all honesty, I suspect it was the former that prevented Lindir from being a royal.

 

Círdan continued. “Hail to you, Lord Ulmo, Lady Uinen and Lord Ossë, forever a friend to the elves and rulers of the high seas. May your gracious presence shine down upon us and bless us all.” Círdan paused. Lord Ulmo dipped his head in acknowledgement, while Lady Uinen and Lord Ossë smiled graciously.

 

Círdan continued. “We bring before you a group of warriors who are sailing for the first time across your seas. As ruler of all the waters of Middle-earth, we invite you to preside over the Ceremony of the Sea Virgins, so they may be as one with those who dwell in the seas as they are with those who dwell on the land.” Círdan bowed and indicated my group of warriors.

 

“I accept,” Lord Ulmo boomed, causing the ship to judder somewhat.

 

Círdan read some more from his scroll. “We declare to all the merchildren, sea monsters, the Kraken, sharks, whales, dolphins, giant squids and other dwellers of the deep, that this ship has been blessed by Lord Ulmo himself and that we sail under his protection. Any who fall overboard whilst enjoying the gracious and freely given protection of Lord Ulmo are not to be eaten or maltreated in anyway. We plead that this honour is extended to our new members of crew and that they receive your blessing, becoming an ion of the sea and a compatriot to all its creatures.”

 

“Your request is granted,” Lord Ulmo said. I heard my warriors give a sigh of relief; they thought that was all there was to it. I knew better, enjoying their muffled groans when Ulmo said. “Let the initiation begin.”

 

  



End file.
